An heir, an heir, my kingdom for an heir!
by Lotten
Summary: Exactly what was the chrisis that called Virginia and Wolf back to the Kingdoms? Nothing quite as sinister as the evil queen this time. The matter of the royal succession needs to be settled, and there are COMPLICATIONS... Let there be SLASH! TL/WW
1. Moron

Lotte: Okay, so for the people that (god forbid) haven't seen the 10th kingdom that still manage to stumble into this story, do read on by all means. What you need to know about the main character in the story of ours is that Wendell is the spoiled prince that was turned into a dog by the stepmother of evilness, and Tony is the man that previously was married to her, and also the only one Wendell was able to speak to as a dog. Tony's from our world, Wendell's from fairyland, and that's where the story takes place. Virgina is Tony's daughter who basically saves the day by killing her mother (Luke-complex, I think that's called...) and gets the guy. She's hot. Wolf is the guy, and he's even hotter. And this is a lesbian writing!

Oh, and SEE THE MOVIE. You want to. You really want to.

* * *

**Lotte's introduction**

Well, it goes like this… We were watching the 10th Kingdom, naturally, and I suddenly pointed at the screen, going, "Oh my god, they're so slashable!". I was, as you might have guessed – or possibly not – referring to Tony and Wendell. My friend Hanna went something like, "Oh, urgh, the wrongness!" and she laughed at my stroke of genius. But then she started to _think _about it, and dangerous things happens when _that_ happens… And that, as they say, was that. We had to do it. (No! Get your mind out of the gutter right now, thank you.) There actually was no way of _not _doing it.

So while some of you might be somewhat disturbed by the thought of a middle-aged, not very slim, balding man having sex with anyone, and especially an extremely gay young blond full of doggish charm… well, we're here to tell you that it probably has happened before, _out_ of our sick minds, and besides, it's absolutely adorable. To quote Wolf: "It's perfectly normal!"

So, sexual innuendoes and BIG bones galore ahead, my friends! Let's all lean back and enjoy one seasoned slasher and her highly talented accomplice doing what they do best. I will be writing Tony and she will be writing Wendell… more or less. We can't look at anything for long without manipulating it, so we're going to influence each other.

And during the long dialogues, we are of course fighting like hyenas over the keybord.

Hoo-haa!

**Hanna's introduction**

Well, there is never much to add when the lovely Lotten has spoken, so I'll be brief.

Welcome to the mayhem that happens when I get to dabble at storytelling!

Since I'm the newbie maybe I should tell you a bit about myself…Er… Just imagine what would happen if Wolf had been a really repressed girl and you sort of get a hint of my personality. I'm absolutely bonkers, but with a lot of common sense (don't ask me to explain how that works) and I believe that is reflected in my stories.

I am a high-maintenance genius and need to get constantly kicked in the but to keep creating…whatever, thankfully Lotten is with us on this one so It'll probably get finished, oh yay.

Okay, so this wasn't really brief, but never mind that and I do hope you'll enjoy our weirdly winding tale of middle aged love and Wolf worship!

* * *

**Prologue**

_The traveller's guide to fairyland looks quite a lot like an old tattered notebook. There is a multitude of loose papers stuck in it that never falls out, and no matter how many people that submits their wisdom to it there are always a few blank pages at the very back. Still, it never gets too thick to comfortably carry around in your pocket._

_Handy, that._

_When you open it, it rustles comfortingly, as to tell you that everything is going to be just fine. Which is a big fat lie of course, because no one ever got to Happily Ever After without quite a lot of effort, but still, if you follow the basic advice handed down by all those who ever fell through a mirror, a closet, a rabbit whole or whatnot, you might find that the practical day to day events at least will be somewhat easier to handle._

_And now, you lay eyes on the first rule of The Travellers._

_1. You never know when you might stumble upon a magical portal to a parallel universe, and therefore it is always good to carry a large stock of condoms at all times.  
This applies to women interested in having sex with other women too, since a condom can, with imagination and a pair of scissors, quite easily be converted into a convenient barrier between a tongue and… other stuff.  
If you don't know why this rule is the first one, you've obviously never met Wolf. _

* * *

Fairyland can never be as simple as you're made to believe when you're a kid. What Wolf had said about either living happily ever after or dying of horrible curses was more a tribute to his naiveté than an accurate description. Sometimes, love ended not with death, but with boredom. Sometimes, the wicked witch was slightly more human than you really wanted her to be. Sometimes, True Love's First Kiss came only after True Love's First Slap, True Love's First Argument and True Love's First Sharp Knee In The More Tender Parts… or, as it were, a broom. 

And sometimes, you think you are Prince Charming marrying the princess, only to wake up one day realising that the only royal thing that has happened to you is being royally screwed.

Then again, it wasn't as if there ever had existed an Unhappily Ever After. There was always a chance of improvement, whatever the storytellers said about it. So even if you married the Evil Queen – be it because you were too infatuated to see what was coming for you, or too self-absorbed to notice – there was no actual _rule_ saying that you couldn't have a second go at True Love. Humans, as a rule, do _not_ mate for life.

And if no princesses are available, and you realise that you actually aren't that charming – and that your hair is falling out, yes, thank you – then maybe you can find a Handsome Prince of your own and bollocks to the royal succession.

But there _are_ some rules that need to be followed, nonetheless. First and foremost, every story has to start somewhere, and once upon a time usually does the trick. What time, you wonder. Well, it was like this…

* * *

**Chapter One****Moron**

Once upon a time, a prince lived happily in his huge castle, and he had more young menservants in minimal clothing than he could possibly shag and still have time to eat and sleep. He also had the kind of menservants that organised meetings, colour-coded parties and handled the fine points of diplomacy that the prince otherwise had the unlucky tendency of trying to solve by looking vague and going, "Just give them a bone." This was not so much stupidity from his part as much as a really short attention-span and the lingering effects of being golden retriever-shaped for far too long.

Tony wondered what on earth Wendell needed to have him around for, since he now had seven bouncing bloody castles (imported) in different parts of the kingdom, and had given several away as gifts. It wasn't that he minded, as such, it was just that he clearly wasn't useful for very much at all. And as nice as it was to think that he was being kept there by the prince for his charming company, he still had just enough perception of self to realise that this might not be entirely true.

There was a peal of girlish laughter from the next room, and Tony lowered his book and sighed in mild dismay. He hadn't been much for reading back in what he still persisted to call the real world, but there really wasn't much to occupy oneself with here (even bouncing castle had their limited value when it came to amusement). However, he still wasn't very used to reading, and it generally craved a lot of concentration from his part, and since peace and quiet was a bit hard to come by at the castle, so was concentration.

When he complained to Wendell, the prince… sorry, _king_ would just shrug and suggest that he could go for a stroll in the forest. To which Tony would somewhat testily reply that after having dragged a solid gold _dog_ through miles and miles of forest, he wasn't very inclined to venture into even the smallest patch of greenery, ever again. And Wendell would snap back that if Tony hadn't turned him into gold in the first place… And so they would continue, until either of them got weary – in Tony's case – or bored – in Wendell's case – and stalk away, muttering to themselves.

"Oh, aren't you the King's manservant?" A woman wearing a ridiculously large crinoline had just appeared in the doorway, hiding large parts of her face behind a frilly, flowery fan and flapping inch-long lashes at him. "But aren't you a funny little man?"

Tony was suddenly and unpleasantly reminded of Sally Peep, and shuddered. "You're the new lady in court," he guessed. "Delly-something."

He was pleased to see a frown of irritation marring the powdered forehead, and she lowered her fan as if taken aback. "Lady Delvehn, if you please, sir," she answered with a chirpy playfulness that certainly wasn't genuine.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, I'm sure, lady Dellyven." Tony had tried courtly manners, and had decided that they weren't for him. This had caused a bit of a stir, until Wendell with magnanimous indifference had proclaimed that Tony was a bit of an eccentric. Cinderella had declared herself perfectly amused, and everyone had just smiled along with her.

A series of expressions flitted across the girl's doll-like features, like a sequence of slides. Shock was followed by vexation and outrage, and then by confusion and eventually caution. Then, apparently gaining control of herself, she plastered a huge, sticky smile over all this. Flap-flap went the lashes.

"Tell me, since you are the king's friend…" She was virtually purring, her voice dripping with honey and sprinkled with sugared violets. "…what kind of a man is he? What is he like?"

Oh! Oh…

The kindest and most honest thing was obviously to reply something like, "gay as bloody Christmas". But Tony wasn't feeling very inclined towards kindness at the moment, and when was he ever inclined towards honesty? So he put on a sad, concerned face and shook his head, like perhaps a worried uncle – a disgusting thought, really – would.

"Oh, he is a lonely man, my lady. He needs the gentle hand of a woman to guide him. It's lonely at the top and all that." He gestured vaguely.

Lady Delvehn's eyes shone with badly concealed lust. "Is that so? The poor, poor dear…" she murmured, her fingers tightly gripping her fan and Tony wondered if he perhaps was being far too cruel.

After all, Wendell was probably going to be absolutely traumatized.

* * *

The young kingling in question was sulking, sitting in front of a large mirror looking rather a lot like a sad puppy. 

It had all been so much easier when he was care- and clueless.

Before being transformed into a dog, he'd probably been the worst ruler in the history of the 4th kingdom. He'd done nothing about The Huntsman skulking about in his forests, allowed prisoners to live on a diet entirely consisting of beanstalk and hadn't made the slightest effort to ease the tense relationships between humans and wolves which had resulted in tragic deaths on all sides.

Oh, and let's not forget the fact that he'd given the trolls a disgusting, polluted land to call their kingdom, opening the door for his evil stepmother to get a war started.

And the worst part was, no one seemed to be angry with him!

He deserved anger, he deserved bloody riots! But everyone was just so bleeding happy that everything was back to the way it "should be" that no one seemed inclined to do anything of the sort.

How could he had been allowed to shame the name of White in that manner?

Well, again, he was to blame. He'd surrounded himself with senile old poofs more concerned with matching their gloves to their shoes than the state of the kingdom, and the one sensible person of the lot had gotten killed by The Huntsman, who was roaming free because Wendell hadn't stopped him. It was the mother of all vicious circles.

He was far into an impressively long inner monologue about his own wickedness when he got interrupted by someone knocking at the door. His facial expression was that of a disturbed and slightly insulted speaker when he opened the door, but he managed to soften his features before smiling down at the young woman standing before him.

"Lady Delvehn, what and unexpected pleasure," he lied with the ease that comes from growing up at court. A visit from Delvehn was hardly unexpected since he was well aware of just how badly she wanted to be queen, and it most certainly wasn't a pleasure.

"Oh, your majesty, the pleasure is all mine," she answered and he could see with disturbing clarity just how much she meant it.

"Do come in," he gestured for her to enter his private chambers and tried very hard not to gag when she swooped past him in a sickeningly sweet cloud of perfume. This woman was an abomination!

"I was talking to your, is it architect you call him?" She chirped whilst settling down on a couch with her voluminous skirt billowing around her.

"If you are referring to Tony, then yes."

"Well, we had the most lovely conversation, we really had!"

As Delvehn's eyes became distant and she was totally enraptured in her own brilliance, talking about how Tony'd been telling her about the hardships of being a ruler, a terrible realisation dawned upon Wendell and he suddenly had a very hard time suppressing a growl. This was Tony's doing!

Wendell's plan had been to gently discourage the young woman from her wedding plans by dropping careful hints of having "other interests" but the frigging idiot had gone and positively assured her that he'd be very susceptible to her "charms" and he could see in her eyes that not even letting her catch him in bed with some random man would stop her now. She'd gone positively berserk!

"I am so sorry to interrupt you, milady, but I just realised that I have some rather urgent business to tend to, so if you'll excuse me," he said, and without bothering to await her answer went out the room as quickly as he could without loosing composure. Once out of the doors he yelled at the top of his lungs, "ANTHONY!"

* * *

Tony had gone back to his book, but was interrupted just minutes later by a bellow that echoed through the marble halls of the castle. Raising his head with a vaguely puzzled expression, wondering if he had heard it right, he beheld a gaggle of terrified servants stumbling into the room. 

"Please, master Anthony," panted one of them, a man he recognised as the chief butler. "The king requests your presence. It's rather urgent."

Tony wondered how someone who lived in fairyland – the man sported green antennae, for crying out loud! – could sound so intensely British.

"ANTHONY! HERE! _NOW!_"

Tony grimaced. He had a feeling the king had not taken his little joke very well.

"Where is he?" he wondered, trying not to sound too intimidated.

"Oh, he should be about-"

"_Here,_" Wendell said, coldly. As if on cue, the servants seemed to evaporate on the spot. Wendell bared his teeth, the compulsion to _bite_ almost too powerful to resist.

"Moron! You absolute dunderhead!"

"What?" Tony said, striving to look innocent.

"Like you don't know! Coxcomb!"

"I have no idea what you're on about," Tony said, knowing he was taking the innocence-act too far but quite incapable of thinking of some other way of tackling an enraged, _growling_ king.

Wendell's hands were opening and closing repeatedly, longing to throttle the man before him.

"I am _trying_ to run a kingdom here, and the last thing I need is buxom maidens _throwing_ themselves on me, goaded on by your dim-witted manipulating _meddling!"_

"Oh, come on, there's nothing wrong with some beautiful ladies, eh?" Tony said in a _miserable_ attempt to ease the tension that was almost making the paint crack on the walls.

Wendell's face went a rather becoming shade of red that perfectly matched his golden curls. "Well, if you think she's so damn beautiful why don't you shag her and then maybe she'd get off my back!"

Tony couldn't hold back a grimace, which he tried to disguise as a small cough. "Oh, but it's the _king_ she wants," he said, blandly. Something about how Wendell had delivered that last line made him feel rather pleased with himself.

"And I don't suppose you give a rat's ass about what _I_ want, do you? I am trying to rebuild my kingdom here, you miserable piece of crap! I know you were busy chasing that mirror around, so maybe you didn't notice that THE TROLLS INVADED! PEOPLE DIED!" He had to take a few calming breaths, "and it's all my fault."

"Oh." Chastised, Tony looked away, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt. "I didn't mean to … I mean… And how can that be _your _fault? You were a dog. A very lovely dog," he added quickly, not wanting to pull down the king's wrath upon him again, "but still… a _dog._"

Wendell pulled a hand through his hair, his face slowly returning to it's normal colour. "I know you didn't… mean it like that, and it _is_ my fault, I gave the trolls that awful place to live in and kept all the good land for myself. Okay, the trolls aren't very nice as a species, but that's no reason to treat them like refuse. I gave them a reason to want to invade, and my stepmother used that." Wendell realised with a start that he had no idea why he was telling Anthony all this, and he went abruptly silent.

Bewildered by Wendell so suddenly going from fuming to guilt ridden and pathetic, Tony resisted a vague urge to pet him. "Uhm… Okay, that's stupid, yes, but it wasn't your fault that Christine… well, that wasn't your fault, alright? Why don't you just… take a bath or something, and I go tell Lady Delvehn that you're gayer than a picnic-basket and wants her to drop dead…" Tony, realising that he had actually _said_ that, not just thought it, began backing towards the door. "I shall just… go… Right?"

Wendell open and closed his mouth a few times, the anger almost completely forgotten, before managing to squeeze out, "Am I really that obvious?"

Caught by surprise by the question, Tony replied with the absolute truth. "Yes. Yes, you really are, I'm sorry to- well, not sorry, of course, I mean, just… you… Well. You are." And with that wonderfully coherent shamble of words, he fled.

* * *

A little while later Wendell was soaking in the bath suggested by Anthony, trying to make sense of what had happened. He'd been so angry, and then suddenly he just…wasn't. 

Part of the explanation was of course the fact that when he was a dog, Wendell had begun to think of Anthony more an more in terms of "master" rather than the "manservant" that he'd started out with.

The part of his mind that was still a dog really resented being aggressive towards Master, and that made it quite difficult to have arguments with Tony.

But there had to be more to it than that, he'd become quite good at overriding his lapses back into doggieness. Then… what? Why was it so easy to forgive Anthony for all his silly and quite unnecessary displays of just how much of an ass he could be?

He sloshed the water around a bit, trying to wrap his brain around a completely mind boggling concept.

Could it be that he was actually… _attracted_ to Anthony? But he was old! And balding! And he had a beer belly! It couldn't possibly be so!

But of course, it was.

Once he'd allowed himself to admit the possibility, Wendell was overwhelmed with the feeling of things falling into place, and it was terrifying.

He'd know that he was gay from the moment he entered puberty. Everyone knew of course, but it wasn't spoken of and it had been assumed by all, including Wendell himself, that he'd get married despite this and produce an heir.

This had not been a problem, because, though numerous, none of his relationships had been…well…real. There had been no depth, and so that was the level of commitment Wendell thought he'd be expected to give an eventual wife.

Now he was facing an emotional complexity that hinted at the most unbelievable possibilities, and he knew he was in deep shit.

* * *

Deep shit would be the words Tony would at the moment use to describe Delvehn's mind. She was blinking at him – he was almost sure that he could feel a draft coming from those fanning lashes – and looking so blue-eyedly and lip-poutingly confused that he was quite sure that none of what he was saying was making an impression. 

"The king is happy? Well, isn't that good?"

If Wendell had unwanted impulses concerning biting and growling, Tony suddenly had a terrible urge to shake that girl to see if he could hear her brain rattling around in her skull, like a ping-pong ball on a string.

"Look, he's just… uninterested. Okay? I was telling you a horrible lie and I'm really sorry for that and will you please just leave him alone?" He drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself a bit and stop himself from rambling more than he already had.

Delvehn once more blinked. "Oh, sir, you're confusing me. Could you perchance repeat that… a bit slower?"

Tony wondered if she would take the hint even if Wendell would be prancing around in front of her in a dress, and decided that no, not even then. And as far as he knew, being a cross dresser was at least one of very few things that Wendell wasn't, when it came to the gay stereotypes that living in New York generally fed you with.

"He doesn't feel ready to commit," he said, resigning to the old cliché when all else failed. "Wants to stretch his wings, be a free spirit… you know?"

"But you said…"

"Forget what I said. I'm an eccentric, the king said so himself. You're not supposed to listen to what I say!" This was exasperating. Screw dignity, he just wanted to get away from this she-beast as quickly as it was even possible. So, he very manfully mumbled some nonsense about having to tend to his sick uncle Fergus and bravely ran away.

* * *

Wendell wanted to run away real badly, but where would he go? He was regent of the 4th kingdom, a regent without an heir, and it was becoming painfully clear that an heir would never be produced. He had single-handedly ended the house of White! 

He was shivering now, and not just because the bath water was running cold. It would be quite impossible to get a wife, not only because he now knew with a very final certainty that he could never feel anything remotely sexual for a woman, but because he was in love. With Anthony.

He was in love with a man that had shown no interest in men whatsoever.

Oh, bollocks…

* * *

Having eluded her mental Ladyship, Tony went looking for Wendell. Since some obscure part of him was convinced that Wendell would do as he ordered him, he thus figured him to be taking a bath. The public ones downstairs were empty save a grumpy centaur being rubbed down by a nervous servant, so Tony instead headed for the royal bedchambers. 

He found Wendell wrapped in a towel on the edge of his bed, blond hair falling in sad wisps around a… well, a doggy-eyed face.

"Uhm… Your Majesty?"

Wendell nearly jumped right out of his skin, and came dangerously close to dropping the towel. That would have been unfortunate since he was sporting an enormous erection sprung from nervous energy and experimental thinking about Anthony in various situations. All in all, this was not a good moment for him to meet the object of his newly discovered affections.

"Anthony! Go away! I mean…don't…I mean…Uh…Gha!"

_Way to go Wendell, you handled that one just splendidly…_

"Your Majesty? Are you quite… alright?"

_Okay, think! You have to be at least vaguely coherent this time!_

"Anthony…You never call me Your Majesty…Has something happened?"

_Damned right it has!_

"Uh… I just didn't want to upset you… again… Oh, and I talked to that woman and… well… I didn't _really_ get through."

Wendell tried to make himself more comfortable on the bed, and made no small effort to arrange the towel to conceal his current penis situation.

"Oh, I didn't really think you would, she is positively the most dense creature I've ever met, and having you to measure by that's saying a lot," he said with a slight smile thinking back on the various occasions he'd had good reason to question Anthony's intelligence. Just to mention an example, how about when he'd been _turned into solid gold_?!

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Tony muttered rather sourly. "I appreciate the special place I have in your heart."

_You have no idea…_

Wendell suppressed a whimper and felt some added pain in the groin area. This was getting more and more awkward by the second, and if he got any harder he'd explode!

"Erhm," he said, crossing his legs and squishing his crown jewels between his thighs, "I'll figure out some way to get rid of her, thanks for the effort…"

Tony walked a bit closer, tilting his head and squinting at Wendell. "Uhm… Are you feeling well? Should I send for the quacks? I mean, doctors."

_Yes, do that. Send for the doctors and tell them the king is suffering from acute erection! Why did he have to do The Squint at me? And he's getting closer!_

"I'm fine," Wendell replied, his voice travelling upwards on the scale.

"You don't sound fine," Tony answered a bit dubiously, concerned in spite of himself, and placed a tentative hand on Wendell's shoulder.

Wendell shot up as if someone had set off a firecracker under his ass, clutching the towel with panic racing through every vein, and probably oozing out of his pores too.

"I'm just dandy, really! I'm just gonna go and have a nice _cold_ bath now…"

"But you've just had a-"

But the king was already gone. Shaking his head and muttering something about rabid dogs and crazed monarchs, Anthony left the room.

* * *

Now wasn't that _fun_? Let's torture Wendell some more, how about it? Ah, I knew you'd say yes. 


	2. Master

Lotte: Oh, and we've so totally been up all night writing this, yes we have. This is what happens when you give us cute little characters to torture. We're not responsible. We didn't get enough love in our childhoods.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Master**

_2. When having conversations with anyone native to fairyland, don't say anything if you don't mean it literally. Chances are that if you say you want to get separated you'll end up in different part's of the kingdom._

* * *

In all the emotional turmoil Wendell had managed to completely forget about the dinner party that he'd decided to throw a couple of weeks back. Nothing fancy, just half the kingdom invited or so. It would have been a blast if things hadn't been so vexingly complicated! 

He stood in a kind of daze while servants fussed around him, getting him dressed for the occasion.

_This is a fine mess I've gotten myself into…_

* * *

No matter how long time he was going to spend here, Tony didn't think he'd ever get used to the sheer ridiculousness of courtly festive dress in the 9 kingdoms. He felt like he had run through a stock of clown's clothes in the middle of the night, and then a killed a peacock and placed it on his head. He would have been somewhat comforted by the fact that Wendell looked even worse, if he didn't know for sure that the king loved it. All the pastels and the lace and the cuffs and the bows at the most unmentionable places. 

It was a wonder that not every single nobleman turned gay out of sheer self-preservation.

Leaving his quarters, he felt a sudden surge of sympathy towards Virginia, whom he had never taken seriously when she complained about the excruciating pain connected to wearing high heels. He closed his eyes partly every time he passed a mirror, sure that he was the most embarrassing sight in all of the 4th Kingdom.

Entering the ballroom he searched in vague panic until he found Wendell almost engulfed in a cloud of pink silk by the drinks table. Several courtiers were apparently making conversation to him, and the king was just as obviously not hearing a word they were saying. In record time, and with a minimum of feet squashed under his vicious shoes, Tony made his way across the ballroom.

"My King," he mumbled, trying to sound suitably respectful, and tapped Wendell on the shoulder.

* * *

Wendell had no idea what he was wearing, if indeed he was wearing anything at all. He'd been at the mercy of his servants and could only hope he didn't look to ridiculous. 

He knew that people were making conversation at him, but he was more concerned with getting drunk thank bothering to listen to any of their chatter. He really wanted to get drunk, and he was already past he point were he was capable of realising that it was a really, really bad idea.

Then he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder and saying in a soft voice, "My King," and it was The Voice that had been saying things like that in his head for the previous few hours since he realised that he was madly in love with Anthony.

It was all a little too much, really, and Wendell mumbled a very inappropriate, "Big bone," before tumbling to the floor in a magnificent swoon.

* * *

Tony had dragged the unconscious king into a small parlour and told the servants to bring water there for the king to drink when he awakened. What he actually did was emptying large parts of the glass into Wendell's face, and then leaned back and waited for the passed-out monarch to pass back in. 

Wendell groggily opened his eyes and enjoyed a brief moment of blissful ignorance before memory hit him like a carelessly tossed brick.

"Pleasch tell me that din appn…"

"It definitely did," replied Tony, into whose arms the king had managed to swoon, making his back creak in a rather alarming way. He wasn't as young as he wished he was, that much was clear. "And I heard some of the guests saying something about you being drunk and mentioning a rather unhealthy amount of drinks, something I hope was greatly exaggerated."

Wendell made a gesture as if counting on his fingers, "Prob'ly isn't, not sure."

Tony groaned and tossed some more water into Wendell's face. "Sober up! You're supposed to be the king, remember? You're not setting a very fine example."

Wendell scoffed, "I'm no king, can pruce heir, screwed."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you must've realised that ages ago. What am I supposed to say? No, sorry, the king is indisposed by being violently gay?"

Wendell nodded sagely, "You do that, love…Oh no, d'I schay tha'? I din, did I?"

Tony was getting very confused, and a bit panicky. Great, a king having some kind of sexual crisis and … hitting on him? How were you supposed to handle that? "Come on, I'll help you to your room. I'll… I'll make some excuse." He didn't actually believe that he could come up with anything that could be even remotely useful for hiding that the king was royally pissed, but Wendell was not going out there again. So he grabbed Wendell around the shoulders and tried to drag him to his feet, making his back creak once more. "Come on, help me a bit here."

Wendell did his best, though that wasn't very productive at all, and he seemed to have fallen into some sort of gigglefit. Between rather girlish squeals he managed to convey what was amusing him so much:

"We're goin' t'my room!"

"Yes, exactly," Tony mumbled testily, dragging the giggling king along. He waved in some help from a handy servant, and together they managed to transport Wendell to the royal bedchamber and tip him into the royal bed.

Wendell was feeling great. All his troubles had been lifted and when he slipped away into sleep it was with a blissful little smile on his lips, and maybe, just maybe he could be heard mumbling a quiet, "Anthony," before yielding to oblivion.

* * *

"Good morning!" Tony said with sadistic cheerfulness, pulling away the curtains and letting in a blast of sunlight. "Feeling well?" 

"Too cruel, Anthony, too cruel!" Wendell moaned trying to fend off whoever it was hitting him repeatedly over the head with…bones? His brain was clearly not functioning properly yet.

"Oh, feeling a bit indisposed are we? A bit fragile? Perhaps we should have thought of that before we made an arse of ourselves in front of half the kingdom yesterday, eh?"

"Bugger off, I had my reasons!" Wendell said, not realising that he might be asked to name those reasons. Brain definitely not working as it should.

"Yes, thank you, I heard you. You've apparently figured out that gay men aren't known for producing heirs. What a brilliant conclusion of what I am sure was a very deep process of thought." Tony really wasn't the one to speak, but he was not feeling generous this morning. His back was giving him hell.

Wendell felt an enormous surge of relief when he realised that Anthony thought the heir thing was his only problem. Then he saw the strained manner of his friend's walk. "Oh dear, you caught me, didn't you?"

"Yes. When you are going to have your next ladylike swoon, please select someone else's, someone _younger's_, arms to fall into, please?" Somehow, it still felt a little better that Wendell had actually noticed.

_I'm not interested in falling into anyone else's arms, thank you…_

Wendell was not feeling well at all. "Can I have a biscuit…I mean, a glass of water?" When he was this frail, the inner dog tended to revolt against the regime of Wendell.

Tony rolled his eyes. "There is breakfast on the bedside table. Eat it and you'll feel better… Your fragile Majesty."

Eating was not the pleasant experience that it usually was. It was more like torture, and the amused look on Anthony's face did not improve matters at all. "I really am sorry, Anthony, I know I was a complete git. Could you please stop being so smug? Trust me on this, I'm being thoroughly punished as it is."

"Oh, well, I don't really have to punish you any more than this. I'll just wait for your advisors to get their hands on you," Tony answered rather primly, but there was still a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The look on Wendell's face was one of complete and utter terror. _The advisors. Okay, now I'm just getting fist fucked by life…_

"No fair!"

* * *

_Okay, lets' try to be constructive about this. I'm in love with Anthony…that can be a good thing. Or not._

Wendell was sitting in his favourite armchair in the huge library. After the thrashing he'd been given by his advisors he felt like a chastised schoolboy and really just needed some alone time to figure out what the hell he was going to do about himself.

_Well, he's never said he's not into men, has he? I mean, that could mean… no, it doesn't mean shit and I shouldn't be fooling myself that it does._

He got out of the chair with a frustrated push and started pacing back and forth over a luxurious round carpet with a very weird pattern that used to scare him as a child.

He was falling deeper and deeper in love with Anthony with every passing moment, it was as if a dam had broken and eons of stored emotion was gushing forth like a second pulse in his bloodstream making everything complicated and horrible and beautiful.

Well, considering the way I've been acting I won't even last a week before he finds out anyway, so maybe I should just tell him now and get it over with. He'll probably go back to New York then and I'll lose him, but maybe that is all for the best. Yes, I'll look him up and tell him right now!

With a determined spring in his step he set of towards Anthony's chambers. When he got there he had time to knock before he registered the giggles, and they made him feel funny all over.In a very bad way.

* * *

Tony was having a very nice chat with some of the pretty noble ladies that seemed constantly to hang about the castle doing nothing. He far from minded their company, after all, they were all _very_ pretty girls, and very attentive and anxious to please. Of course, entering into a relationship with one of them was out of the question, because they all sooner or later turned into Virginia in his mind. They were just far too young and he was far too much the father of a lone daughter for anything like that to work. 

He had just told a joke that he _knew_ for sure wasn't funny, but that sent them into peals of giggles anyway, when there was a knock on the door, and he instinctively called, "Come in," to which the girls once more started giggling.

Definitely far too young in every possible sense.

Wendell was not happy when he opened the door, and he didn't get any happier by seeing _his_ Anthony surrounded by a veritable flock of geese shaped like women. It didn't show on his cool and very controlled outside, but he was barking madly on the inside.

"Anthony."

"Wendell," Tony replied, forgetting all about Majesties once more, probably from pure perplexity. "Are you looking for someone?"

_Yes, yes, you great buffoon! I love you, I love you, I love you!_

It took a moment for Wendell to distance himself from the screaming voice inside his head, and he also had to wait for the effects of the shudder to wear off that hearing Anthony say his name sent up his spine. Therefore he stood for several seconds looking pretty damn stupid before he managed to speak.

"Yes, I was looking for you actually, but you seem to be rather…engaged at the moment, so perhaps I should return later?" His voice was very, very calm, and approaching about zero degrees Kelvin.

Tony gave him a perplexed look, disentangling himself from the gaggle of girls that were watching Wendell in open-mouthed adoration. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Okay, so what are you angry about this time?"

_Ooooh, I love it when you lower your voice like that…And I really shouldn't be thinking that right now! Okay, Wendy-boy, focus._

"I'm not angry."

_Yes I am! Oh fuck, I can't tell him now… What am I going to say?_

"Vexed, annoyed, bloody furious? _Something's_ obviously eating you." Tony was wearing the yes-I-am-being-very-patient look.

_Fooooocuuuuus…_

"I gotta go." He spun on his heels and took off with as much dignity as he could muster (read: none whatsoever).

_You fail._

* * *

Tony was a very confused man. Wendell was acting like… actually, he wasn't quite sure what Wendell was acting like, but it came damn close to the way Virginia had acted when she hit puberty. 

That was not a good thing. Seriously. That had not been a happy time of his life.

So he had shooed away the girls and was pondering the apparent madness of royalty in general, aided by a big glass of fine wine and a book that he was miserably failing to read, when there was once more a knock on the door.

"Wendell?" he asked, half in hopefulness, half in trepidation.

"No sir. I have a message from the king though, sir. He wants you immediately in the royal bedchamber."

Tony nodded and waved away the errand boy with an absolutely huge tip (given not out of generosity – Ha! – but out of carelessness with coins that still felt unfamiliar), and after effectively emptying the glass he took a deep breath and marched off to meet the king.

Knocking on the door had no effect, so he softly called out, "Wendell?" instead.

"Come in," answered a muffled voice, so that was what Tony did.

"Are you finally going to tell me what this is all-"

Tony's chin dropped. Wendell was sitting in his bathtub, in his _bedroom_, and was watching him in a very… odd manner. By some reason, it made Tony hugely nervous.

"Yes Anthony, I need you… to give me a sponge bath," Wendell said evenly, waving a sponge in Anthony's general direction.

"I… _what?!_ What are you…? Wendell, what is your bathtub doing… Why are… Why are you bloody naked? What's going on here? And what… I…_ SPONGE BATH?!"_

"Sponge bath."

"But why?!"

"You just don't get it, do you?" Wendell said, standing up, "THIS is why!"

"What?!"

"THIS!" He yelled indicating his body's quite obvious reaction to Anthony's presence. Then he abruptly hopped out of the bath tub and did the only thing he could think of. He stalked off again.

Left was an absolutely shell-shocked Tony, staring after the king as he thundered down the corridor, trailing suds behind.

"I… was that…? Did he…?" And then he shook his head, eyes widening. "WENDELL!" he called after the fleeing king. "You can't do that! You're naked! And you have a… You can't do that!"

* * *

Wendell didn't get very far before running into trouble, namely the lady Delvehn. He was fuming his way round a corner, when suddenly the entire corridor was full of skirt. He skidded to a halt, and came to full realisation just how stupid he was looking. Fortunately the erection died a sudden death at the sight of her, but he was still stark naked and wet in the corridor. 

The lady Delvehn seemed even more shocked than he was, and he quickly realised that if he didn't make fast use of that he was up to his…something in trouble. So he turned back the way he came from, and _ran._

* * *

Tony was sitting on the royal bed with his head in his hands, wondering how quickly the rumour was going to be out that the king had gone stark raving bonkers, when a panicked Wendell rushed through the door and slammed it shut after himself. He leant against it, as if afraid that something, or someone, was coming after him, breathing in short, shallow gasps and looking utterly pathetic. 

"Uh, Wendell…" he said, standing up.

"Oh, Anthony," he said weekly, going prettily pink all over, "you're still here."

"Yes." Like that wasn't painfully obvious. Oh, god. He was alone in the room with a naked Wendell that obviously… that obviously… no, he wasn't going to even_ go_ there. "Er… you… You've been acting this strange because…?"

"Oh yes."

"But… but… but for Christ's sake, Wendell, why… why _me_ of all people? How dense are you?"

Wendell smiled very faintly, "You are my master."

Tony went past pink and red and straight to purple, and hid his face in his hands. "I can't believe," he said in a choked voice, "that you just said that."

"Humour at the gallows, I suppose," came Wendell's rather dry reply.

Tony's world was being rapidly rearranged in a _very_ awkward way. A lot of things made a lot of sense, and it was rather like realising that the reason everything had gone so hot, and the reason you smelled smoke, was that your house was on fire. And at the same time he was actually feeling rather… sorry for Wendell, standing there in nothing but his skin, resigned in every possible manner.

"I'm… I didn't realise. Sorry."

"Well, I did make it rather a bit more complicated than it had to be. Chalk it up to emotional incompetence."

"…well, at least you're in good company," Tony muttered, for once in his life admitting that yes, he had been a complete dolt, too. And then, after a short, awkward pause, "So… what exactly do we do now?"

Wendell shrugged, "Depends on you, I mean… I can't have you here flirting with hoards of girls. I'll go crazy, if I haven't already."

Tony, in spite of everything, laughed. "Oh god. You were _jealous._"

"Of course I was! They were all over you! And you seemed to be pretty damn snug!"

"Oh, come on. They're just _girls. _They're Virginia's age."

"_My_ age!"

"Uh, yeah. But… it's not the same thing. I have a daughter, not a son."

"So what are you saying here?"

Tony realised exactly what it seemed like he had been saying, and once more blushed. "I… I don't know. I'm not supposed to confront these kind of issues at my age!"

Now it was Wendell's turn to laugh, and he did so quite heartily. "Yes, you are an old man indeed."

"Oh, _thank_ you, but you don't _really_ seem to _mind_."

"The only thing I mind right now is the bloody cold. I'm going to get dressed," Wendell said and strolled over to the closet. Tony followed him with his gaze, and then realised that that was one of the things he really shouldn't be doing right now, so he turned away, trying to do so discreetly. He failed.

"So, Anthony…" Wendell said, trying very hard to sound casual as he was pulling a shirt over his head, "will you be staying here?"

"I… I want to. But… I mean… I have no idea if… I mean I'm not sure if I even… if I even could… I… I'm going to shut up now."

Wendell looked over at Anthony in surprise. "You don't seriously think you're required to become my lover to get my permission to remain in the castle, do you?"

"No! I mean, no, it's not that. It's just… I don't know if you noticed, but it is a bit _awkward_," he said, rather sarcastically. "And I… It's somehow… cruel. I mean, you're obviously not… uhm… feeling very well."

"You going away won't make me love you any less," Wendell retorted, hopping on one leg trying to get his trousers on.

Tony made a small choking sound.

"Oh boy, I said the l-word, didn't I?"

"Yes. You did. I… I need to sit down, I think. Old man, you know. My heart."

"Then by all means do sit," Wendell said, now reasonably clothed. "And please don't get too intimidated by me. I'm not a monster. I just get a little weird when I want something."

"Bones, for example?" It slipped out before Tony realised what he was actually saying, and then he laughed tiredly and leaned his head in his hands. "And how can I _not_ be intimidated? Someone loving you isn't something you just shrug off. Especially not if that someone happens to be a king, and especially not considering how my last actual relationship ended."

Wendell went over to Anthony and sat down by his feet, looking up at him with big, blue eyes. "How can you be afraid of something this cute?" He said, feeling a need to lessen some of the tension.

"Oh, stop it." But he had to smile. "You're not as good at that as when you were as a dog, you know. You have to practise on your whine a bit more. Possibly explore the possibilities of the human body. You could wobble your lower lip or something."

Wendell snorted with very ungraceful laughter. "And now there were about a million jokes I refrained from throwing back at you. Be careful with what you say, Old man."

"I'll remember in the future not to invite to juvenile jokes, Your Royal Overgrown Teenagerness."

Wendell shook his head, grinning. He was glad Anthony didn't seem so very bothered anymore.

"Shut it, you."

"Make me."

And of course there was only one response to that. Wendell knew it was stupid, _incredibly_ stupid, and that it would probably fuck everything up. Again. But what was a do...man to do? So, he did the obvious thing and got up on his knees to kiss the man of his recent steamy dreams.

At the end of that kiss, Anthony came out with a dire need for caffeine. Or possibly a handgun.

"You just… I can't believe you just… No, actually, I _can_ believe it and _that is not making it better._" He took several large, gulping breaths and realised that he was still holding onto Wendell, and that Wendell seemed to be very pleased with this. "Oh, this is going to be so _complicated._"

_I kissed him, and he's still here! He didn't kick my nuts out and serve them with beer!_

Wendell was in a state of mild shock. He had _so_ not expected that to work.

"Er…sorry?"

"Like hell you are."

"Well, I am a little… But you did say 'make me'!"

"I blame it on this blasted place. Everyone takes _everything_ so literally!" But he still hadn't let go. Why hadn't he?

Nope. Still not letting go.

"Well, then your tongue seemed to take my gums pretty literally…" Wendell said for some mysterious reason and then wanted to die, quickly.

"I am going to pretend I didn't hear that," Tony muttered, blushing slightly and still not letting go.

_Okay…He's not letting me go…What am I supposed to do? Kiss him again? Can't do that, he might get angry…_

"So, are we just going to sit here now?" Wendell ventured carefully.

"Well, of course not. We… Uh… Oh, bugger it all for half a dollar, Virginia is going to kill me," he said…

…and then he kissed the stupid king.

At least it wasn't the wicked witch.

* * *

NEXT: Wolf and Virginia! And gay men! And possibly we're going to make sure we _deserve_ that M-rating. 

You know you want it.


	3. Mystery

Okay, so we're not going to earn that M-rating just yet. _BUT_, we're making up for it with a lot of Wolf. And with Wendell being evil. And by torturing Tony. _And_ by torturing Virginia _even more_. Isn't that just spiffing?

**

* * *

Chapter Three**

**Mystery **

_3. Never break mirrors. When they say seven years of bad luck, they mean it. Actually, it's better if you stay away from mirrors altogether._

* * *

And then, two months later, Wendell was struck by genius. Well, at least something struck him. He decided to share. 

"We're going to do _what?_" Tony stared at the cheerful blond as if he had lost what little mind he had.

"Get married!" Wendell repeated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world that you get married after a two month long relationship when the how-many-years-older part was still trying to figure out what he was actually doing. "If we do, I won't have people constantly badgering me about getting married, 'cause I'll _be_ married. To you!" Big glittery eyes were doing eyelashflapping at Tony.

"But… is that legal here?"

"I'm the _king_, darling, I can _make _it legal if it isn't."

Tony closed his eyes and counted, silently, to ten. "And the royal succession?"

"But that's the really brilliant part!" Wendell was practically bouncing. "If I marry you, I become Virginia's stepfather, right?"

"Vaguely disturbing, but right."

"And Virginia's pregnant, right?"

"Ye- Oh, no. No no no. You can't be serious! Wendell, that's…"

"Brilliant! We get married, Virginia and Wolf thus becomes family and I can name their child heir to the throne without having to go through civil war! Tedious business, that."

"And Virginia and Wolf has no say in this?"

"Of course they do, we just have to make sure they say the right thing!"

"I think I liked you more when you were a dog, you know that?"

"Oh. Could I do _this_ when I was a dog?" Wendell asked sweetly, and did something that made Tony grimace ever so slightly. However, he didn't seem to mind. At all.

"Okay. Maybe not that. And even if you could…" They looked at each other and shuddered, as if on cue. "So… won't this sort of mean making _Wolf_ a prince?"

"I don't see the problem…" Wendell said, something distant now in his eyes.

"I don't know, call me crazy, but I just wouldn't think that that kind of responsibility would rhyme very well with his… general personality. And I believe I am talking to the person that once upon a time seemed to think that it was in his nature to be a monster."

"Things change, you of all people should know that, my love," was Wendell's sweet reply. "And you are really cute when you blush, have I told you that?"

"Far too many times. Okay fine. I'll at least talk with Virginia. But she's not going to like it, I hope you realise that? She'll feed me to her grandmother."

Wendell looked concerned. "You want me to come with-"

"No! No. You just stay here, alright? And I'll go fetch my daughter." He swallowed, biting his lip, and wondered how _he_ would look with potatoes around him.

* * *

Hearing the ring of the doorbell, and wondering at the marvel of elevators and other things he had almost forgotten, Tony suddenly realised that his well-rehearsed Speech o' Conviction had somehow slunk out of his brain and probably gone somewhere more interesting than the huge, blank space that was now there in its absence. He knew he had thought of absolutely brilliant ways of convincing her, and he also just _knew_ that they had from the very beginning had the same life-expectancy as those suicidal mushrooms. They were gone, and weren't ever coming back. 

Somebody almost seemed to crash into the door on the other side, and seemed to be hopping from one foot to another while opening.

"Hello Wolf," he said without even looking up.

And an anvil hit him in the chest.

"TONY!" Wolf howled happily and was hugging him so tightly that he was close to howling himself – from pain – if he had actually had any air to howl with.

"Very…nice… to see…" he managed to squeeze out, and when he then started to hack and cough, his son-in-law actually let go. "Thanks," he wheezed, feeling his ribs. He wondered what Wendell was going to say if he bruised.

"Sorry," Wolf mumbled, and scratched his forehead in an embarrassed sort of way.

"Dad?"

Another hug ensued, but thankfully not nearly as brutal. Something poked him in the stomach, and he looked down.

"Look at you! You're huge!" he exclaimed, and Virginia swatted him over the head.

"Thank you, I know. I'm _waddling._"

"Isn't she the most scrumptious thing _ever_?" Wolf wondered enthusiastically and licked her ear. Tony refrained from commenting that.

He was ushered into the kitchen, and tea and cookies were pressed upon him with such gusto that he had just as much on his shirt as in his mouth when Wolf was finished with him. They were just starting on a nice conversation about Virginia's new job, when Tony became aware of Wolf sniffing him.

"Uh… What are you-?"

"You have a MATE!" Wolf exclaimed happily.

Virginia sprayed tea over half the table. "Whagh?!"

Tony was looking at Wolf, petrified, while Wolf was leering back at him and grinning with a set of slightly pointed teeth. "You've been NAUGHTY!" he said, and from the way he said it, Tony knew that he knew _exactly_ who the mate was and… other things.

"Who?" Virginia, who had finally stopped coughing, demanded to know.

Tony had the presence of mind to clamp his hand firmly over Wolf's mouth, something that earned him a look like from a wounded puppy.

"Please. Let _me_ tell her. You… I mean, you _know. _And I need to tell her."

Wolf nodded silently, waggling his eyebrows in a manner that – Tony supposed – was meant to be understanding. He slowly removed his hand from Wolf's mouth. There was still a grin behind it.

"I'm waiting," Virginia crossed her arms on the top of her pouting belly, looking half amused and half freaked out.

"Uhm… I was sort of hoping that we could get to this when we get to the other side."

"The other side? Who says we're going to the other side?"

Tony noticed that Wolf's tail was sort of half-wagging, and he looked beseechingly on Virginia, making small noises in his throat. Well, at least one of them wanted to go. And he also noticed that his daughter was having a hard time ignoring her husband.

"You see… There's trouble. In the 4th kingdom. We sort of need you there."

Virginia's eyes widened. "It's not mother, is it? It can't be…"

"No. Your mother is dead. It's… less grave. But we still need you."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't tell you before we're there," Tony said wretchedly.

"What?!" Virginia jumped clumsily to her feet. "We're not going on a mission or, or whatever, if we don't know… Oh, shoot, toilet!" And she rushed away.

The moment she was out of sight, Wolf spun around and once more treated Tony to a very _wide_ view of his teeth. "Wendell! My, you _are_ a bad, bad…"

"Hush, she might hear! I'm… Not yet!"

"Oh, fine. But Tony… you stud!" He did a growling little noise that sounded like some kind of vicious version of laughter. Despite the irritation, Tony felt a treacherous little part of himself feeling flattered.

"I was _saying_…" Virginia began when she entered the room, but Wolf, the bastard, had now completely switched sides.

"Oh, can't we go! Please! You can't _hunt_ in Central Park, you _know_ what happened when I tried!"

"I had to bail you out, yes, but…"

"Come on! We haven't been there for ages! We can play hide and seek again!" Tony did a grimace down into his tea mug – "An I want to se Wendell again!" – which turned into a fit of coughing as he inhaled the tea.

Virginia bit her lip, but it was obvious that she was already lost. She was lost on, "hide and seek". And thus it was settled.

* * *

They were greeted by a very exited Wendell. Tony, who had just realised that he hadn't let his fiancé – pause for the mind to boggle – know of the small detail that he hadn't been planning to tell them – or, more correctly, Virginia – until he was on the other side, and now they were there, was having a very silent panic attack. 

"Darlings, you're here!" Everyone got thoroughly hugged, though maybe a little extra attention was given to Tony and Wolf, the latter very discreetly, but Tony still noticed. And minded.

At the end of the hugging session, however, Virginia spun to glare at her father. "Now I want to know about this supposed girlfriend of yours, dad," she demanded with a look on her face that reminded Tony, creepily, of her mother before she started getting… unwell.

Wolf giggled.

"Girlfriend? Now that I want to hear too. What haven't you been telling me, lover?" Wendell asked in a singsong voice, that just reeked of mock innocence. Beholding Tony's dismayed face, there was for a short moment a small, evil smile tugging on his lips before he once more was all wide-eyed wonderment. "Oooooh, you haven't _told_ them yet! Silly me, now I've gone and spoiled the surprise!" Wendell went over to Anthony and put his slender fingers on his lover's arm, "But you'll forgive me, won't you?"

"I'm getting you for this," Tony muttered vindictively under his breath. He looked up and beheld Wolf, who was shaking from badly withheld laughter, supporting Virginia, who looked like she was having a heart failure.

"Virginia, dear, I'm really sorry for this. This was _not_ the way I was planning to tell you." The last line directed, along with a murderous glare, at Wendell.

"But then you should have told me when you _were _planning on telling them, dearest." Wendell replied. He then continued in a whisper, "Because you were acting like you weren't going to tell them at all."

"Oh, it's not like it could have been kept a secret," Tony said slightly bitterly. "Wolf smelled it on me the moment I got into their apartment."

_You had Wolf sniffing you? You lucky bastard!_

"You _bastard_!" Virginia smacked Wolf over the top of his head. "You knew… _this_… all the time! You… Why didn't you…?"

"I gave him my word," Wolf said, somehow managing to scratch himself in a way that conveyed hurt dignity. "My solemn wolf word. You can't go down on your word! Besides," he grinned and pushed some hair out of her face, "I like his way better." He indicated Wendell, and then broke down into a silent fit of laughter.

Wendell flashed a happy smile at Wolf before showering poor Anthony with a rain of soft little kisses at every surface that he could reach without twisting his neck out of joint. Virginia gagged and turned away.

Wolf muttered something that sounded remarkably like, "Hypocrite, a succulent hypocrite, but a hypocrite nonetheless". Tony wasn't really listening, trying as he was to fend of his lovesick puppy of a fiancé.

When Virginia came back from the land of imminent horror over the concept of her father being involved in a relationship, she finally blurted out what it was that was really eating her.

"But you're so much _older _than him," she gasped at her father, who looked a bit uncomfortable.

"You never asked how old _I_ am," Wolf reminded her with a wicked sort of grin. Virginia blinked.

"How old _are_ you?"

"Don't know, really." Wolf scratched himself behind his ear. "Maybe thirty and five, six, seven years. Something like that."

"_What?!_ You never told me that!"

"You never asked," Wolf answered blandly.

"But I'm…"

"Twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-one."

Wolf shrugged and smiled at her, until she stopped gawking and shook her head in dismay.

Tony leaned closer to Wendell, so that he could whisper in his ear. "How much-?"

"There's twenty-five years between us. Why?"

"Uh. Nothing." It wasn't nothing. He just realised that he had been changing diapers on his newborn girl when someone had been doing the same thing on Wendell. That was more than a bit horrifying. Quite frankly, it frightened him as very little had frightened him before. He wasn't completely good at keeping this from showing on his face, and he didn't notice the worried look Wendell was sending him.

_I couldn't care less. But he could. That's bad, right?_

* * *

"So, what actually was the crisis?" Virginia asked after everyone finally had managed to calm down. 

"Well, now that me and Anthony are getting married…"

"What? Dad?!" Virginia squeaked, for the umpteenth time that day.

"She keeps saying that…" Wolf mused, and earned himself yet another slap from his beloved wife. Fair but feisty.

"Yes, well, that is the thing that leads us to the actual issue," Tony muttered, still a bit embarrassed.

"Which is?" she asked, dangerously calm.

"The royal succession." Wendell said simply.

"Uh."

"There won't be any. Obviously. Unless Tony's been hiding something mo-"

"Don't even _go_ there."

"Anyway," Wendell chirped on, "I figured out hat if I married my lovely Anthony here, I would become your stepfather, Virginia, and it would be perfectly alright for me to name your child as my successor. And though that would mean the end of house White by _blood_, I'm sure Snow-white would agree with my choice. And anything's better than civil war, I think we can all agree on that."

Wolf had choked on step-father and disappeared once more into convulsions of laughter, but at the words civil war he bounced back, suddenly serious. "Oh, no, we don't want that! All fighting and dying everywhere and all the forests and all the great places to play will be burnt or bloody or…" He whimpered, butting his nose against Virginia's shoulder. "And then there will be a cruel king or queen again and wolfies will be hurt again."

In face of that, what was poor Virginia to say? Wendell was still looking peacefully smug, her father was looking pleading and uncomfortable at the same time, and in her belly, a little wolfie kicked. She was outnumbered four to one.

"I don't want to live here," she said, sounding almost meek.

"You don't have to," Wendell said, beaming at her. "If you just visit regularly and send the little mite here during summers when he gets older… It will all work out _wonderfully_!"

"Yes, yes, and all thanks to you," Tony muttered tiredly.

"Isn't that just great?!" Wendell said, ignoring the irony like someone batting away a mite from his face.

* * *

Two men and one woman were watching Wendell with deep and unwavering scepticism. They knew he was up to something, they just didn't know what… yet. Nonetheless, since they had been appointed by Wendell as advisors – and they had all agreed that he _needed_ them – Wendell being up to something never boded well. 

Of course, there were the other advisors, but even Wendell seemed to realise that they weren't exactly reliable when it came to matters of state. However, if you were looking for someone to, say, match the colouring of an entire ballroom full of people…

Whatever Wendell seemed to have in mind, matching colours wasn't going to help them this time.

"Okay. Spill it. With all due respect, of course, your Majesty."

"Of course. And I'll even be brief about it. Aren't I a good boy? I'm getting married."

Wendell was looking immensely pleased with himself, and maybe that was why they were still suspicious. Nonetheless, it didn't seem so bad, right?

"Well, that's lovely, your Majesty," Toratlomos, the senior advisor, said in a guarded tone of voice. "May we inquire as to the name of the girl?"

"Yes, well, that's where we hit a little snag, isn't it?" Wendell said placidly. "You do know what I mean, right?"

And very slowly, comprehension dawned. En masse, the advisors groaned.

"It's not a girl at all, is it, your Majesty?" This was Sanya, the military advisor. She had her face hidden in her hands, as if hoping that she could blot out the inevitable truth.

Wendell smiled beatifically. "_Well_…"

"I thought it had been agreed upon that…"

"I am well aware of the original plan, thank you. I even agreed to it. However, things aren't quite the same anymore. Trust me on this, there is only one way to produce an heir to this throne, and that is to let someone else do it."

"Note that I'm not even asking who the man is. I doubt that you've actually chosen someone that will tie any useful bonds of allegiance to the other kingdoms. And what do you mean, let someone else do it? It has to be a child of the house of White! Otherwise we'll have a riot on our hands!"

"Now, isn't that a pretty narrow-minded opinion? Now, just hear me out. I'm the last living member of the house of White, but when I marry Anthony…"

"_WHAT?!_" There was an uproar, even on the behalf of Sir Rupert, who protested that Wendell's husband-to-be had no sense of style.

"For goodness' sake, Wendell, you cannot be serious!" Toratlomos was staring at the king with something akin to revulsion. "You scorn every nobleman in the nine kingdoms to marry a man that is twenty years your senior! Don't you realise how that is going to look!"

Wendell really didn't like Toratlomos' tone of voice, and didn't bother hiding it at all. He was the king after all. "_Now,_ that isn't really the cleverest thing to say about my fiancé, is it? And none of the noblemen have the necessary connections to provide an heir that will keep the people happy. Anthony does."

"Explain, please." This was Mariam, the last advisor, who had until then kept quite, although he had twitched quite a lot when Wendell had revealed the name of his fiancé. He was a middle-aged, patient man that usually handled matters of diplomacy. At the moment, he was looking rather tried, but he at least seemed willing to listen.

"Thank you, I will," Wendell smiled at Mariam, and then extended that smile to the other advisors. "You see, Anthony is one of, 'The four who saved the 9 Kingdoms,' as am I. The other two are, as you know, Virginia and Wolf." At the mentioning of Wolf, Sanya actually smiled a bit. Well, she was only human. (Actually, technically, she was an elf, but you get where we're heading, right?) "Now," Wendell continued, also smirking a bit, "Virginia is Anthony's daughter, and would effectively become my daughter – not by blood, I know, but still – if I married Anthony..." Seeing the blank looks of the advisors, Wendell halted with a small sigh. "Do any of you see where I'm going with this?"

They shook their heads, and Wendell rolled his eyes before continuing. "Well, Virginia and Wolf are currently expecting a baby, and if Virginia is my stepdaughter, that baby and I will be related – yes, I know, still not by blood, but bear with me here. I could still name the baby my successor, I'm quite sure the people wouldn't mind. As I said before, Virginia and Wolf are heroes, legends even, and if they are members of the house of White by marriage, that should suffice to appease the nobles as well."

A long silence ensued, but it was broken by a small chuckle. "Well done, your Majesty," Mariam said encouragingly. "I'd like so see them getting out of this one! Just because it's diplomatic doesn't mean that it has to be nice, that's what I always say."

"And that's why I hired you," Wendell said, positively beaming at the man. "So, do I have your agreement on this?"

"If you didn't, would you give a flying fuck?" Sanya asked bluntly.

"No. Of course not. But I would feel a little sad about doing it. So?"

"Agreed," Sanya said tiredly. "Toratlomos?"

"Agreed, even if I do not like it. I have a feeling we have not heard the last of this."

"Now," Wendell said, at last addressing the rest of the advisors, "my wedding needs to be colour-matched, please."

* * *

NEXT: There will be sex. There will be steamieness. If you don't like the thought, you are hereby forwarned, and may skip the part with the shmex. But why would you want to do that? 

We'll also get as close to male pregnancy as this fic is ever going to get. PLEASE DON'T STOP READING. It's very far-fetched, we promise.


	4. Maternity

Hokay, so now we ARE earning that M-rating. THERE WILL BE SEX. We're warning you right now. You don't have to read it, and if you do and become traumatized... well, that's your headache.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Maternity**

_4. Stay away from vines, and never eat apples. There's some serious evil greenery going on in fairyland._

* * *

"I want yamberries!" Wendell cried out dismally.

"I want sushi!" Virginia yelled from the other end of the room.

Tony and Wolf looked at each other.

"Sushi?" Wolf asked.

"Raw fish and rice. Sort of. I have a feeling you should not try to make it. Yamberries?"

"Usually imported from the 6th kingdom during summers. It'll be impossible to get at this time of year."

They both groaned silently.

"Oh great," Tony muttered, pacing over to try to mollify his pouting fiancé.

"Huff-puff," Wolf said under his breath, and hurried over to Virginia's side, his tail drooping.

"Anthony! Now!"

"There aren't any. There won't be any until summer. You know that," Tony said pleadingly, which earned him a rather fierce look.

"I want them anyway."

"Why are you acting like this?" Tony hissed, sitting down next to Wendell. "_You're_ not pregnant!" The king shied away and huddled as far as he could from Tony without falling of the divan, glowering.

"You're being insensitive! We're having a baby!"

"I'm having a grandson. _You_ are just being silly!"

"So the fact that my husband to be is going to be a grandfather is not allowed to affect me?" Wendell grumbled.

"Of course it is," Tony said patiently. "But I _can't_ see why you should act like you're pregnant, and you _can't _have any damn yamberries. Okay?"

Wendell rose from the divan, looking quite a lot more enraged than the argument really justified. "What _can_ I have then?" he snapped, before doing his thing. Stalking off.

"Now what was that all about?" Tony wondered, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of deepest dismay.  
"You didn't get that? Huff-puff, you're worse than me." Wolf shook his head, but refused to say anything more.

"Just go after him, dad. And _you_! Where's that sushi?"

* * *

"Wendell? Why are you angry with me?" Tony was standing in the doorway, ready to do a hasty retreat.

Wendell was sitting on the bed that he shared with Tony these days, the bed in which a spectacular amount of… not much really, was happening. His eyes were big and shiny by badly restrained tears.

"Do you really want me?" he asked, his voice pathetically full of desperation.

"What? I'm getting _married _to you."

"Well, a lot of marriages are based on other things than wanting each other. I'm not questioning the fact that you _like_ me, but do you_ want _me?"

"This is a really odd place, sorry, for a moment I forgot. But pf course I do. Otherwise I wouldn't… I mean, you don't really think I'd be that cruel?"

"You've been rejecting me for two weeks running now! _That's _pretty damn cruel! I mean, if you're having second thoughts just bloody _say_ so!"

"Oh, you mean… oh…" Tony went rather red and looked away. "No, I'm not having second thoughts," he said, shaking his head but still not managing to look at Wendell. "It's just… It's catching up with me… I mean, I didn't actually _think_ about what I was doing in the beginning, and now…" He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You… if you'd grown up in New York during the 60's, you'd know what I was talking about."

"But now I didn't, so I have no idea what you are going through, and since you insist on being all manly on me and keeping quiet about your emotions, you haven't exactly given me much of a chance, now have you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just… I… Until the moment you… well, it never crossed my mind… I mean, I've never even considered being with…" Apparently, this was hard to say, and he fidgeted nervously. "…well, with another man."

"Moron! So this is basically you angsting?"

"I… I'm really sorry, but the moment I actually started thinking about what I was doing… I was… uh… terrified, to tell the truth. Which is not to say that I don't… like… it…" He turned a darker shade of red.

_He is awfully cute when he's blushing… No. Focus. We're being serious, remember?_

"You could have just told me, and I would have backed down _without_ feeling rejected and frustrated and scared to death!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't think… Well, I didn't think, period. I wasn't trying to… well, _of course_ I wasn't trying to hurt you." Moving slowly and carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, he walked over to Wendell and sat down next to him. Tentatively, he put a hand on Wendell's neck, the thumb moving to stroke the soft skin and the wispy, curled golden hairs there. "I should've told you."

There was no way Wendell could reply, the only sensation his mind and body allowed him to have was the tingling trace left by Anthony's touch. There were so many things he wanted to do, and at the same time he was completely content with savouring that simple little display of affection. But in the end of course, it wasn't enough, and he_ needed _Anthony.

He placed a hand on his lover's thigh, his fingertips oh so close to where they _really_ wanted to go, and while he kissed Anthony with all the lust of a thwarted twenty-one-year-old, his fingers bored into the flesh in unmasked yearning.

Tony's first impulse was to back away, but he fought it down, knowing that it would be absolutely unforgivable to give in to it now. And once he kissed back, receiving the reckless abandon of his lover and being gratefully overwhelmed by it, it wasn't very difficult stop thinking about what was happening.

Actually, it was more thinking that was becoming a bit hard. Among other things.

He was rapidly becoming rather discontent with the position of Wendell's hand, since it was obviously a bit off the mark. Giving himself no time to consider and be daunted, he pulled Wendell closer with his right arm, so that their bodies were pressed together, and with his left he carefully moved his lover's hand upward, shuddering as he did so.

Wendell experienced a moment where all the lust turned into relief and joy, but then his hand got relocated and it was all lust again. He pressed Tony down on the bed, still kissing him fervently. There was so much _cloth _in the way!

He pulled down the zipper of Tony's jeans and wiggled a few teasing fingers in, knowing that without undoing the button as well, the only thing his touch could accomplish would be agony. Which was absolutely delicious, from his point of view.

From Tony's point of view, it was… well, agony. But when he tried to protest, all he accomplished was a choked sound that seemed to come from his chest rather than his throat. He moved against that tantalising hand, his back arching, in a sort of wordless plea for… for anything, just _more_ of it. Trying to get Wendell to get the hint – and just maybe giving back… a little – he slid his hand down his lover's back and then over to the front, where he started to caress him through his clothes, rather enjoying the effect this seemed to have on the king.

Oh well, Wendell supposed he'd asked for it, and not very politely at that. But if this was punishment, it sure was enjoyable as hell.

He moved both hands away from Tony's groin area and attacked the buttons of his shirt instead, craving skin. He devoted his entire attention to the bared chest, caressing it with both hands, lips and tongue.

Tony was vaguely aware that random noises – perhaps they were words – were escaping him, but if they indeed were words he was absolutely incapable of understanding what he was saying. Both his hands snaking around Wendell's waist, pushing fabric aside to get to some skin, he pulled Wendell upward until they were lying nose-tip to nose-tip, groin to groin.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled, attacking Wendell's neck.

"Yes, you most certainly are," Wendell groaned, twining his fingers in Tony's hair and grinding his crotch against his lovers ditto. Then he slid back down Anthony's body, taking a _very_ short moment to wonder at how much he'd missed it. Before, two weeks had been nothing, but now it felt as if he was touching Tony for the very first time all over again.

He wanted to hear more of that incoherent rambling, and he wanted to hear Tony screaming his name.

He knew that there was a really good way to make that happen, and he planned on exceeding himself this time to eradicate all doubts in Anthony's mind that this was right.

So finally Tony's cock got released from its woven prison, only to be caught in another one made of flesh.

"I mean, I have this wonderful lo-_oh_!" Tony's answer was somewhat interrupted by Wendell's manful attempt to sweep the last of his doubt from his mind. Which he did, at least for the moment.

And now Tony was actually aware of a long, ceaseless string of words coming from his lips, but the only one he recognised was, "Wendell," and he said it more and more often the closer he came to-

"Father, I…" There was a strangled cry of shock from the door, and then a terrible silence. Tony, his heart sinking with dread – and disappointment – grabbed a blanket to cover himself, and thus also pulled it over Wendell's head.

"Virginia," he said, or tried to say, for his voice wasn't really co-operating. "You… Why didn't you knock?!"

"I did!" Virginia squeaked angrily.

"Why didn't you wait for an answer?!"

"I _did._ Someone said, 'yes'!" She was shaking with shock and looking nauseous.

From underneath the blanket came a muffled voice saying, "Wasn't me, my mouth was quite occupied, thank you!", just for the sheer heck of it.

_Anthony is going to kill me…_

"Wendell! You're _not_ making it_ better_!"

"No, you're not;" Virginia fervently agreed, her face hidden in her hands.

_Well, I know!_

"Look, I'm sorry that…"

Wendell threw off the blanket with a wild look on his face. Teeth bared and eyes flaring, he directed his furious yell partly at Tony and partly at Virginia. "Like _hell_ he's sorry! Now leave us alone!"

Virginia paled, stumbling backwards through the door and slamming it shut behind her with a bit more force than was actually needed.

There was an awkward silence.

"You know, I was just trying to…"

"Shut up, I don't want to know. Now would you mind terribly if I got back to what I was doing?"

"No."

* * *

"So… Still want those yamberries?"

"Mmnoo… But Anthony…What _are_ the 60's?"

"Er… Never mind."

* * *

"How is she?" Tony asked Wolf, who was happily eating some random piece of what had once probably been something small and defenceless.

Wolf shrugged. "Making a fuss. As if it wasn't completely _natural. _I mean, it's hardly like _she's _the blushing virgi-"

"Yes, thank you, no more details. But I actually think it's worse if it's your parent."  
Wolf gave him an odd look and threw away the bone he'd been gnawing. "The definition of _being _a parent is that you've mated," he pointed out rather matter-of-factly. He had a terrible way of doing that. Then he suddenly flashed Tony a wide grin. "Oh, I should thank you, though."

"Why?"

"She needed a _lot_ of comforting," Wolf replied, sounding rather pleased with himself, and with a stray, "Succulent," muttered under his breath, he wandered off.

Wendell looked rather admiring. "How did he manage to turn _that_ to his advantage?"

"No idea, and I don't think I want to know."

"Possibly just him being him, then," Wendell murmured, his eyes lingering on Wolf's disappearing shape.

"Oh, for god's sake, Wendell!"

"What?!"

"You're actually _drooling._"

"Well, the only reason you're _not _is because you're _terrible_ at being gay."

"I- oh, forget it. We're _not_ going to argue again. Agreed?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I kind of liked the result of our last argument…" Wendell let his gaze slide all over Tony's body.

"Okay, so we're going to argue a million times probably, but right now, I'm far too tired. Dinner?"

"Do I get desert?" Another meaningful glance.

"If you earn it, perhaps. Or possibly a bone. But now I'm _hungry_."

* * *

And then, about a month later, Virginia was rather suddenly in an awful lot of pain. This seems to be the standard for people giving birth and was completely natural, but Virginia did _not_ appreciate being told. Actually, the way Wolf put it was somewhere along the lines of, "But you're supposed to feel like this! Isn't it wonderful!" And at any other time, he might have been excused on the account of sheer enthusiasm, but Virginia was not feeling very forgiving.

He was sent out of the room with a yelled promise of castration.

Outside, Tony was almost scaling the wallsin sheer worry. The original plan had been for Virginia to go back to New York when the time grew near, but unfortunately the baby had decided that it couldn't wait, and she was left at the mercy of the dubious medical knowledge possessed by some 4th Kingdom midwives. This did not make Tony feel at ease. He was quite sure that they hadn't even _heard _the word "epidural".

Wendell was of course also worried, especially since the fate of his whole kingdom was on the line. He knew how badly premature births could end up if you were unlucky. However, it wasn't _his_ only daughter that was screaming her head off in the other room, so while Tony anxiously paced back an forth, Wendell remained seated, nervously drumming his fingers against the table.

Wolf was bouncing up and down in his chair, munching bacon, and seemed unaware of the filthy looks that the two other men were sending him. Had they actually bothered to ask, Wolf would of course have told them that he _knew_ that it was just fine. Wolfies knew stuff like that. But none of them asked, and so, were not spared in their suffering.

Finally, and after many long hours, it was over. Virginia had given birth to a son. Strangely enough, even though he was born several weeks earlier than expected, he was fully developed and of a healthy size, bellowing out his displeasure so loudly that the windows rattled. His mother was by then asleep from exhaustion, and didn't even stir.

By birth the boy was more or less covered in black hair, but that fell off after a while, and even though he was thoroughly examined for one, no tail was to be found. However, from what you could see on a baby that small, he seemed to show every promise of taking after his father.

Virginia wanted him to be named Christian after her mother, and Wolf had wits enough not to argue. It didn't make Tony very happy, and Wendell was for a while rather horrified, but they kept pretty quiet about it. After all, they owed Virginia too much to cause her pain by open disapproval. An healthy child had been born, at least, and as soon as Wendell had named him his heir, they were free to start worrying about the wedding instead.

* * *

A/N: If you are now at least as traumatized as Virginia, rest asure that there will be no sex involved in the next chapter. Instead, that's the arbitrary angst-chapter. Oh, don't worry. You're going to love it. And if you don't seriously fangirl Viscount Lansky after having read it, you are utterly hearless.


	5. Mourning

A/N: Okay, so some sexual actions, but no actual schmex. Just so you know.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five**

**Mourning**

_5. If there are two roads leading wherever you want to go, and one of them is substantially shorter, take the long road. There is a reason for this; the short road will always lead to a swamp, or a dark forest filled with wolves, or a desert! No matter the hurry you're in, it's not worth it!_

The room was flooded with the first golden rays of morning. Wendell had drawn away the thick curtains, confident that Anthony would remain soundly asleep on the bed no matter what. The wedding was two weeks off, and there had been very little time to think about anything except running the kingdom and trying to keep Sir Rupert from losing what little common sense he had left.

Wendell knew that he'd been somewhat neglecting Tony and his struggle to come to terms with getting married to a man, and a very young man at that. He felt that he should be there more for his love, but he just hadn't been able to lately.

Sitting down in an armchair, the king allowed himself to rest his eyes lovingly on the shape of his sleeping fiancé.

_Poor Anthony, this has been rather hard on you, hasn't it?_

Wendell smiled, but he happy expression flitted across his face like a fragile butterfly, swept away by the slightest breeze. And there was a storm brewing inside of him.

He kept returning in his mind to how close The Queen had been to winning. Sometimes he would sit in frozen horror going over again and again the suffering of his people. And at other times he would contemplate more personal grieves. He'd lost people that were very dear to him, and he could not help but wondering if he could have done something to change their fates, to save them.

He felt his throat thickening, but swallowed it back. He didn't want to wake Tony up. These were personal thoughts, and nothing Anthony hadn't heard him say before. He knew his lover didn't mind listening to his thoughts about his departed friends, but there was something so serenely quiet about this moment that he felt that the sound of his own voice would mar the soothing presence of almost liquefied morning light.

Without warning he suddenly saw the shape of Viscount Lansky sitting on the windowsill, his favourite spot.

_But you're dead…_

Lansky looked at him with the knowing smile that he'd always reserved just for Wendell, and a look in his eyes that seemed to say, "Yes, so?"

Wendell ached to go over and sit beside his friend, to talk to him about how everything was just so _wrong, _and still so fantastically right. He wanted to confess how utterly, blissfully happy he was and how much he felt that he shouldn't be.

Most of all he just wanted to hear Lansky's voice again.

But the young king knew that if he moved, even just a little, the vision would fade and Lansky would be gone. So he sat very still, eyes brimming, but not overflowing, with tears.

_You always looked at me like that. Just like Tony does when…_

Wendell cut himself short, and his expression changed from grief to horror.

_Oh, please no, tell me I didn't do that to you. No. NO!_

Now the tears came. Not prettily in a slow trickle, but big, hot and pulsing. His face turned bright red and he sobbed like a child, all the while cursing himself loudly.

"Bastard! Asshole! Dimwit! Fiend! Demon!"

* * *

Tony woke with a start and a confused thought along the lines of, "Are we being invaded?" But when he blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it from the fog of sleep, his eyes fell on… Wendell? Crying?

He sat bolt upright, confusion being immediately run over by concern and fear, but Wendell didn't even notice it. Tony could hear something that sounded like harsh accusations spilling over his lover's lips, but couldn't tell who they were directed at. And he was overwhelmed by… by just the knowledge that one of the two people he cared for most in all of the world was in horrible pain, and he didn't know how to take it away, how to make it better. This froze him to the core in absolute panic, as he always seemed to become paralyzed and awkward whenever he was needed.

But then he remembered all the pain he had let his daughter carry on her own because he had been too weak and too incompetent to help her with it, and he was _damn_ well not going to make that same mistake twice.

"Wendell? What's wrong?"

Wendell had been covering his face with his hands, and now he took them away to look at Tony. His face was covered in tears and snot, and his hands were smeared with it too. He put them on his knees, palms up, before bursting out the one thing that kept bashing his brain over and over again.

"He was in love with me!"

Tony blinked, trying to follow. "Who was?"

"Lansky!" Wendell sobbed, not thinking about he fact that Tony couldn't possibly connect that name to anything or anyone.

"Uhm… Wendell… I have no idea who you're talking about." Moving slowly, as if afraid to frighten Wendell off, he came to stand behind the back of Wendell's chair, one hand resting slightly on the young man's shoulder. "But I'll… I'll listen if you want to tell me."

Wendell wriggled out a handkerchief from a cleverly hidden pocket to wipe his hands and face before making any effort to answer. He loudly blew his nose and then finally felt ready to attempt an explanation.

"He wuh-was one of the people who kept my throne in trust for me until I turned twenty-one. And he was, well, _sensible,_ if you can believe that about any of my counsellors. He was always looking after me and trying to keep me from being a complete arse." Wendell had to pause for a moment, because this was the painful part. "When I was about sixteen I decided that it would be a great idea to make him my… grand debut, if you get where I'm heading."

Tony actually_ squirmed,_ looking terribly awkward, and hoped to whatever power that was listening that Wendell hadn't seen his brief grimace.

But Wendell hadn't noticed, caught up as he was in memories. "I just sort of… _went_ for it, without even stopping to consider that he might not even be attracted to men. He _had_ to be attracted to _me_. That was how my world worked, and he didn't prove me wrong." Wendell was crying again, crushed by the ever growing realisation that he had been a complete idiot. "Of course he didn't just jump me the moment I walked up to him and said, 'sleep with me!', he was much to good a man for that. But he was attracted to me, and I used that shamelessly to my advantage until he couldn't take it any more and I got what I wanted at last."

This was becoming more than just awkward, but Tony was determined not to give up. He really didn't want to hear this; this was a part of Wendell's life he didn't want to know about. But it was painfully obvious that Wendell needed to tell him, and if it made this any easier for him to carry, then Tony was determined to shut up and swallow it down.

"He was so good to me, and he made me feel safe. He was the one who really took care of me after my parents were killed, and he saved me when The Queen tried to kill me too. So it just seemed so logical that he should be the one that I gave myself to the first time. And the worst of it is, I wasn't in love with him. I cared for him, and he probably meant more to me than anyone else, but I still cared a whole lot more for myself. You see, it was really all about me, what _I _wanted… I had other lovers after that, and yet I kept returning to Lansky. Expecting him to be there, to hold me and take care of me for as long as I wanted him. And he _did_… And now I realised that he did it because he loved me, as I love you. He stayed, perhaps hoping that I would one day wake up and see what he was offering me… But I couldn't… I wasn't capable of _feeling _that way then… and now…he… he's dead, and I can't even tell him how sorry I am!"

"He was the one the Huntsman killed, wasn't he?" Tony asked softly, pushing down and brutally killing the sudden flare of anger at his fiancé. It was difficult, because if he closed his eyes he could see the look of… nothing in Christine's eyes when she told him that she was going out tonight – again. He told himself that this was different, that Wendell had been a seriously messed-up teenager, but nonetheless… Whoever Lansky had been, Tony knew exactly what he had felt, how he had hoped without really hoping for… just something. Anything.

"Yes." Wendell whispered, fighting against new waves of grief because the Huntsman could have been _stopped_ so easily, and nothing had been done. "Why didn't he stop me? He was the one person that could actually say no to me… and he never… He just kept taking me back, knowing that I didn't love him in that way, knowing I had no idea how much he really cared for me… Why did he stay?"

"Because _anything _is better than nothing. Because it's easier to pretend to yourself that you're loved if you can tell yourself that, 'At least sh-_he_ always comes back to me'. And when you close your eyes and… and when they kiss you… you can almost believe that _this time_ it's for real." Tony bit his lip as he realised what he was saying, and he hoped – even though it was quite hopeless – that Wendell hadn't really been listening.

There was a long silence, as Wendell turned around in his chair to look at Tony.

"Anthony… you really seem to know what you're talking about…"

Tony smiled wanly at his lover. "Christine wasn't exactly what anyone would call… well, faithful. And I _did_ love her, a long time ago."

Wendell put his hands over his mouth in a startled gesture. "Oh no! You must really hate me now! Shit… I mean… You know I'd never… And I didn't want to… Shit!"

"I know. I _know_." Despite everything, Tony had to smile, however bleakly it turned out. "Please, Wendell… Christine would never… I don't think she ever regretted what she did to me, not even when she was dying. That was how she _was_, and she never had it in her to feel sorry about that. She would never mourn for me like you are mourning Lansky. And I know that even though you sometimes… pay attention to other men more than what I might like… and even though I have to admit that sometimes… well… I still _know_ that you would never, ever do that to me."

His head was full of memories clamouring for his attention. Memories of Virginia's uncomprehending eyes when he told her that no, mommy wasn't coming home tonight either. And the way he had sometimes wondered if she even _was_ his daughter. And Wendell acting a fool because he was so scared to tell him what he was feeling. And the realization that Wendell had never said that to anyone before, never felt anything like that…

"You _did_ do that to someone, and I'm not saying that you don't deserve to feel bad about it, but… I know you would do anything to undo it, and that's what counts."

Wendell got out of the chair and threw his arms around Tony's neck, digging his face into his skin. "Don't _leave_ me! Ever! I swear, if that's what it takes I'll never look at another man again!"

Tony patted Wendell's back a bit awkwardly and moved a bit so that he could _breathe_. "Don't promise what you can't keep, Wendell," he mumbled, smiling into the cloud of golden hair obscuring his vision. "Of course I'm not going to ask that of you. You're… you. You're young – I _know_ you hate it when I say it, but you are. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad about that, and if you do, then I'm sorry I ever mentioned it. Feel free to drool if you really need it… but I wouldn't _mind_ terribly if you tried a bit to keep it at a minimum."

Wendell made some indistinguishable sounds into Tony's neck before giving it a quick kiss. Then he let go of his poor mangled fiancé and smiled a teary-eyed little smile.

"I'll try… And… Thank you for… Just being here, I guess. This would have been a _lot_ harder to tackle on my own."

"What else do you have a manservant for, eh?" Tony gave Wendell a encouraging and only slightly desperate smile.

"Well, nothing else that would feel proper to mention right now at least," Wendell said, and found himself smiling. He was in no way done processing what he had done, what he could have had and just generally how much he _missed_ Lansky, but he was done for the moment, and the rest could wait.

"Wendell!"

* * *

After that, Tony realised that he was almost constantly watching Wendell. Maybe he did it to prevent Wendell from breaking down like that again, or maybe just to be sure to be there if he did.

This was made a bit difficult by the fact that Virginia still wasn't very comfortable about spending time with the both of them at the same time. She had no problem spending time with Wendell – as long as he tried not to chatter too much about the upcoming wedding – and she craved time with her father, but when they were together they made her… uneasy. Which was a pity, because they all wanted to spend as much time with Christian as possible.

However, after the whole Lansky-episode, Tony found himself sacrificing some of this time to tend to Wendell, and he also noticed that Wendell really made an effort not to drool after anything attractive and male. He didn't do marvellously at it, but he certainly did his best, and it's hard to do better than that. After thinking the whole thing through, Tony realised that it was as simple as this: They had gotten to know each other better. The more you knew of a person, the bigger were the sacrifices you could make for them.

Tony wondered how well Lansky had known Wendell.

Wendell came bouncing into the room, hopping towards Tony and placing himself neatly in his lap, slouching down so he was pretty much laying across his husband to be, legs dangling over the armrest.

"There you are, I've been looking _everywhere_ for you! How do you _find_ these little rooms in the back arse of the castle?"

"Hiding from you?"

"That's not a very nice thing to say, is it? But you know what? I think Christian recognises me!"

Tony was going to say something about Christian being a very small child that barely could focus his gaze on someone for very long, but he decided against it. Wendell was looking so proud of himself, and he didn't want to burst his bubble. So instead he just shook his head in a noncommittal way and smiled at the young king.

"You went looking for me just to tell me that? God, I do love you."

Unnoticed by both of them, Virginia stopped in the doorway, staring.

Wendell looked absolutely shell-shocked, and then the biggest, happiest smile that had ever been seen lighted up his face like a supernova.

"Oh, Anthony, you _said_ it!"

"Said… what?"

"That you _love_ me!"

"Oh. That. But… you must've _known…_" A horrible, horrible thought struck Tony unexpectedly, pretty much like the fabled coin dropped from an aeroplane would. "Or… didn't you?"

"_Of course_ I did! But you never _say_ it."

"Oh. I've never…" Tony frowned, trying to remember. "I suppose I haven't. Weird. I didn't notice."

Wendell stroked Tony's bald spot with a loving smile. "I noticed your not noticing, and decided to see how long it would take before you got around to declaring your love not just…" Wendell's smile changed from nice to naughty, "…orally, but verbally as well."

In the doorway, Virginia winced.

"Oh, aren't you the funniest teenag- sorry, _king_ ever." Tony rolled his eyes.

"Well, I seem to have a knack for making you feel funny at least."

Another wince and a grimace from the doorway. There was no end to how much Wendell and Tony did not notice her.

Tony just shook his head at his lover's remark, but then he suddenly smiled, as if a _very_ interesting thought just hit him. Moving a bit closer, putting his hand under Wendell's chin and he lifted the young man's face so that eye-contact was unavoidable.

"I," he said, very slowly, "love you."

Wendell was speechless. He was transfixed by his fiancé's gaze and couldn't move a muscle, but that was okay. Right then, there was no other place that he would rather have been.

"And I love you," he whispered, almost unaware that he was saying anything.

And Virginia, who had started to look rather bothered, was now looking blank with shock. Unheard, her lips slowly formed a question, that nonetheless seemed to ring loudly in her ears.

"_Love? Really… love?"_

Tony had calculated the effect of his words to be something like this, but what he hadn't expected was the effect they had on him; the effect of actually saying it, consciously and with all his heart. The thought of, _"I LOVE HIM," _filled him up so completely that he didn't even hear Wendell's reply. But that didn't matter, because he felt it in every other way.

Unthinkingly – or rather just thinking one big, wonderful thought – he kissed Wendell softly on the mouth. And there was this to say about this kiss: It wasn't the deepest or most passionate of kisses, because it didn't need to be; it was a kiss that made a solemn promise of a lifetime of kisses to come.

And Wendell being Wendell, he naturally wanted to try for the whole shebang at once. So he grabbed Tony by the neck and kissed him as if there was no tomorrow.

Tony was momentarily stunned, but very briefly so. Then he returned the kiss, moaning faintly into Wendell's mouth as he pulled the young man closer, pressing their bodies together at a somewhat awkward angle.

Trying to adjust to the strange positions of their bodies, Wendell found himself sitting on a quite alluring bump.

"Oh my…" He mumbled, and then Tony's hand travelled from his knee all the way up the inside of his thigh, quite deliberately "missing" the groin and only brushing it with the outermost tips of his fingers. "_Anthony," _the young king begged, at the same time wanting to suffer.

Virginia realised that unless she _wanted_ to put herself through this, she should leave. Then she realised that she actually had come here for a reason, that she was supposed to deliver a message to Wendell. They had made it seem fairly important.

Oh, bloody, bloody damn.

She cleared her throat in that special way that people use when they don't really want to get heard, but know that they should. "I… uh…"

Wendell made a sound that was vaguely reminiscent of a whine. "Not again…"

"I'm so, _so _sorry, but they said the ice from Dragon Mountain had arrived and wondered if they had your permission to store it in the dungeons…"

Wendell gave Virginia the look you give someone that has annoyed you, but you know that person is not to blame.

"So they told you to go and get the _king's_ permission for this? I don't know jack about storing ice! Go ask the chamberlain, or the head chef, someone dealing with running the castle, not he kingdom."

Virginia cast down her eyes, looking for all the world like a chastised schoolgirl.

"Virginia… How long have you been standing there?" Tony asked as kindly as he could, considering the circumstances. This was a rather… strained situation, and it wasn't helped by the fact that Wendell had a tendency to _move about_ a lot when he got upset.

A large amount of pinkness happened in Virginia's face. Tony sighed.

"Oh dear. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

And the worst conscience she'd ever had hit Virginia like a blow in the stomach. Her father was actually apologizing to her for expressing his love to his own fiancé. That was _terrible_. Why would he do that?

No. She couldn't fool herself. She knew exactly why he did that.

All of a sudden she realised just how much she must actually have made her own father suffer with every shudder, every admonition, every turned-away gaze. As if what he had found in Wendell was something that repulsed her.

Blow number two hit her when she realised that _she_ hadn't exactly been discrete when it came to Wolf. And even though it must've bothered her father, he hadn't even come near acting in the way she had.

In one horrible second she realised exactly what she had been.

"_Selfish."_

"No. No, you have nothing to be sorry about. _I'm _sorry. I'll… I'll just go now." But after she had turned away she suddenly stopped rather abruptly. "Oh, and… Dad?" Her voice was hesitant and rather shaky.

"Yes?"

"I'm happy for you." She sounded as if every word took a huge effort to say, and hastily fled after that.

"You know what, love?" Wendell said, resting his eyes on the door that Virginia had thoughtfully closed, "I think she gets it now."

Then he shrugged, "Oh, well…", and resumed kissing the love of his life.

* * *

"Wolf!"

Virginia stormed into their room, threw herself into a chair, and proceeded to look thoroughly miserable.

Wolf was holding a sleeping Christian in his arms, and got up to gently put the baby in his crib before turning to Virginia with a concerned look on his face.

"What's wrong, and how bad is it?"

"I just… I just realised… Father and… I've been _horrible_, haven't I?"

Wolf looked like he'd never heard such a ridiculous thing.

"Oh no, you could never be _horrible_! Myopic, hypocritical… maybe even judgemental. But not _horrible_!"

Virginia smiled _very_ tiredly, leaning her head in her hands. "Thank you, Wolf. I feel _loads_ better already."

Wolf bounded over to Virginia, got down on his knees before her and said in that soft voice he hardly ever used around anyone except her and Christian. "Oh, but you will. And Tony's not angry with you."

"I _know_! That just makes it worse!" Virginia practically wailed.

With a sad whine Wolf rubbed his cheek against his shoulder in a frustrated gesture. "Why do you always make things so _complicated_?" And then the beginnings of a master roar was heard from the crib. Wolf growled and got up to once again take his son in his arms.

"And now you've woken the cub! It took me _hours _to put him to sleep!"

Virginia blinked, as if she had just realised that hey, she had a son, and then she dashed over. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. I… I'm just being stupid and selfish again. I'm sorry."

Wolf kissed her cheek and forcefully pushed away his irritation. "Maybe he's just hungry," he said and handed the crying babe over to her.

"Or wants to punish his mom for waking him up," Virginia muttered with a grimace after she had given her son the breast. "I swear I've given birth to an industrial pump. Ouch."

"What's an industrial pump?" Wolf asked with genuine interest.

"Er… Can't explain that one. High level of suction, basically. Which our son possesses."

"Oh, I got _that_ part, and I also understand why you're in pain, I just wanted to know what an industrial pump _is_," He scratched his temple, "But I guess I'll find out sooner or later when we go back to the 10th kingdom."

"Possibly… not." Despite herself – and despite Christian – she smiled. "I… Well, thank you for bearing with me, by the way. I must've been rather… annoying."

This time, he scratched _her_ temple. "Only a little bit."

And Virginia realized two things right then. Firstly, she was really lucky to have found a man that could stand her, even when she was being a pigheaded idiot. Secondly, that if her father had found the very same thing, then she was certainly not going to stand in his way.

* * *

A/N: Hey, everyone! Join the Lansky fanclub! We have cookies. And not the low-price crap that tastes like cardboard that you get from the Dark Side either. Home made, real butter and cream, dripping with chocolate. Come on. We know you want them.


	6. Marriage

**A/N: **Okay, there will be sex in this chapter as well, and I think you can call it a bit more graphic than the last time. Just so you are warned, and won't bite our heads off.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Marriage**

_6. Be careful what you wish for._

* * *

It was actually quite impressive to see the marriage come together like some huge, complex piece of machinery. There were so many people with their own very special part to handle, and people who co-ordinated these people, and people who co-ordinated _them. _And in the middle of all this was Wendell like some huge, vicious spider. The king knew _exactly_ what he wanted, and he was bullying, bossing and wheedling with everyone to get everything done his way. He was driving everyone mad and seemed to be enjoying himself doing it.

Tony found this very amusing, right up till the point when his fiancé started bossing _him_ around as well.

Eventually, some hours before the dawning of The Day, they were finally finished. Tony had already been asleep for some hours by then, and was woken up by an exhausted Wendell crashing into bed beside him.

"Are you still up?"

"No, this is just a _really_ bad dream…"

Hearing how bone tired Wendell sounded, Tony rolled over in bed, putting his arms around him. "There now. Sleep. We'll be up pretty late tomorrow."

Wendell didn't reply, he was already fast asleep.

"Silly thing, you," Tony mumbled tiredly and joined him.

* * *

"So, no cold feet I hope?" Wendell asked whilst standing in front of a mirror shaving of the measly little beard that had spread over his chin during the last couple of weeks, since he hadn't gotten around to getting rid of it on account of having a gazillion things to think about.

"Ouch!" A lovely bleeding cut opened on Tony's cheek, and he stared accusingly at the razor. "Damn thing…"

Wendell looked over at his _very _soon-to-be husband standing next to him. "Yeah, that _really _answers my question," he said, putting down his razor to pick up a towel instead. "Come here." He gently dabbed away the blood with a crooked little smile.

Despite the cut, Tony smiled. How could he not? Wendell was watching him with such rapt attention and concern that it was frankly adorable. "Not cold feet as such. I'm just terribly nervous."

Wendell permitted himself a small sigh of relief before getting back to shaving. "Hey, _I'm _the one doing this for the first time, remember?" he teased.

"Well, considering how well it ended the last time…"

"Oh, don't you _dare _make that comparison!"

Tony washed off his face and then smiled at his husband-to-be. "Oh, you know I don't mean anything by that. If there is one person in the world that you don't remind me of, it's Christine." He stood there with the towel in his hands, his eyes resting lovingly on Wendell, as if he would perfectly content with never laying eyes on anyone and anything else again. "She always made me feel as if I wasn't good enough. You probably make me feel that I'm a better person than I really deserve."

_I am so kissing him now. No, wait, I have lather on my face, I'm going to taste like soap. Ew. _

Wendell also washed his face, and then hid for a while in the towel, for a short moment his feelings were just too much for him to handle. Love was still in many ways a novelty, and at times he was dumbfounded by the sheer amount of affection so totally focused on one single person. He needed Tony to know this, so he slammed his lover against the wall and kissed him, not thinking about the fact that kissing Anthony _always_ made him want more, so he suddenly found himself in a terribly pleasant pickle.

_Oh dear, could we possibly have time to… no, probably not._

Tony was thinking along similar lines, and gently broke free from his lover's grasp. "As much as I like this," he said, rather hoarsely, "if we don't stop now there is no way in hell I am going to be able to later, and I don't think you could either." He leant forward, planting a kiss on Wendell's cheek and taking the opportunity to whisper in his ear, "How about we save that for tonight?"

"Thank you _so_ much for making me think about _that_…" Wendell mumbled, thinking about what he had in mind for Tony later, "… now I don't want you at _all_, oh no."

Tony chuckled and shook his head. "Young people today only have one thing on their minds," he said, and then he quickly fled the bathroom.

"You are _so_ lucky I don't have time to maim you for that one," Wendell hissed as he followed Tony into the bedroom. Then he started to get dressed, purposefully ignoring his fiancé's stifled laughter.

Tony followed suit, his eyes still lingering on Wendell. He knew it annoyed the king to no end that he kept bringing up the age issue, but the truth of it was that Tony _needed_ to make those jokes. It kept the thought from growing too big and serious in his mind.

Finally dressed, Wendell gave himself an appraising look in the full-body mirror before him. He had decided to simply wear a uniform, much like the one he'd worn whilst awarding Anthony, Virginia and Wolf for what they had done for his kingdom. This uniform, however, was all white and gold with no other elements of colour whatsoever. He turned around and gave Tony a rather nervous little smile. "How do I look?"

The almost worried look in Wendell's eyes startled Tony, like so many things did, and this time it was because of the realisation that his opinion in this really mattered to Wendell. A man that must've been aware of his own beauty since he was old enough to understand what beauty meant, nonetheless was nervous that _Tony_ of all people wouldn't think that he was pretty enough. It was absolutely ridiculous, and at the same time, rather… sweet.

"You look wonderful. You always do. Though perhaps you look even more so today." His tone was mildly teasing, but he tried to pour all the sincerity he could muster into his gaze.

Wendell preened, and then sent a dazzling smile at the love of his life. "And _you_ look stunning, my love."

"Hah. That would be the day." Tony straightened his clothes and got over to Wendell's side, watching the image of the two of them in the mirror. "You'll outshine everyone in that room, and me most of all, and don't you know it." He gently pushed aside a golden lock that had gone astray, caressing Wendell's cheek as he did so. "But I do believe that you, at least, really think so. Which means that you're either blind or stupid, but I love you for it."

"Well, I'd have to go with stupid 'cause there is nothing wrong with my eyes, and they're telling me that you are a very, very handsome man," Wendell cast a last look into the mirror and then started for the door. "But now we really should get going, Virginia and Wolf are probably waiting for us already."

"Probably. And knowing Wolf, that is not something we want to inflict on the other wedding guests."

* * *

After that, everything happened in a flurry, until suddenly they were standing outside the doors to the throne room, waiting nervously for their signal to go in. Wolf and Virginia – best man and groomsmaid – were standing there with them, Virginia holding Christian in her arms and Wolf keeping an eye on Prince.

"What happened to not seeing each other until the wedding, dad?" Virginia asked, checking her dress for wrinkles.

Wendell gave her a confused look. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Tony shrugged. "I always thought that was a pretty stupid custom anyway. And since it went belly-up the last time I tried to play by the rules, I figured that this time I'd just try to do what felt right." The day he had married for the first time had been a sunny perfect day. He had actually felt some strange kind of relief when he noticed that it was raining outside. "I mean, this is hardly a conventional wedding anyway."

"Well, not by royal standards at least…" Wendell mused, not really feeling like explaining the views on homosexuality in the 9 kingdoms right there and then. "But anyway, why would you want to be separated from the person you love right before your _marriage_?"

"Usually, I don't really think 'want to' comes into it as much as some kind of obscure 'ought to'."

"Oh, that kind of thing.. I've never been good at them."

"I do think I believe you." At that exact moment, a fanfare sounded from inside the throne room, and Tony jumped, going a bit pale. A moment later, the doors swung majestically open, revealing a sea of people spreading beneath the wide stair they'd have to descend, preferably without stumbling.

The great hall was crammed with people, all craning their necks and standing up on their toes to catch a glimpse of the grooms. Not all faces were very friendly, but Tony and Wendell had both gone into that nice little bubble that tends to enclose couples when they are about to pledge eternal love to one another.

They went down the stairs and started off towards the platform where not so long ago, a dog had been crowned as king. Now the throne that usually stood there had been removed, and in it's place stood Toratlomos, looking benevolent but slightly bothered. He was wearing a white robe that contrasted remarkably to his ebony skin, making him seem mysterious and very imposing. When Wendell and Tony reached the platform, and got up on it, he smiled at them, before turning to the crowd.

"We have gathered here today to witness the union between King Wendell Winston Walter White, and Anthony Lewis." There was some murmurs following his words, but they were all stifled as he gave them all a stern look indeed. He needn't have bothered, because Wendell and Tony were smiling at each other, still completely oblivious to the world around them.

And then, suddenly, something happened that made every person in the room gasp for breath. Toratlomos felt someone tapping him gently on the shoulder, and what he saw when he turned around actually made him lose his composure for a moment.

"Tora, dear friend, this is my show. Skedaddle." Snow White smiled warmly at him.

Toratlomos wouldn't have been who he was if he hadn't regained his composure by then. He bowed respectfully towards her as he backed away, an almost invisible smile pulling at his lips. "Indeed, my lady."

"Grandmother, how lovely it is to see you again! I was under the impression that I had seen you for the last time," Wendell said, giving Snow White a big hug.

Tony, who like Wendell had for a moment come out of the bubble, looked at the people around him in bewilderment. Wasn't _anyone_ bothered by the fact that a clearly dead person had suddenly turned up? But even Virginia was smiling as if she had seen an old friend again, not showing in any way that something odd had just happened.

Snow White chuckled and affectionately ruffled Wendell's hair. "As if I wouldn't turn up for my own grandson's wedding. A pretty poor grandmother that would make me." She turned her eyes to Tony, who was looking rather uncomfortable with the whole situation, and smiled a bit wryly, as if she could guess what he was thinking. Then she let her gaze wander out over the room, no doubt taking in some of the more hostile faces, and there was an edge to her smile when she turned back to the grooms. "You always knew what you wanted, Wendell, even as a child, and you wouldn't let anyone stop you from getting it. Even if I might've been a bit worried for you when I went away, I didn't think _that_ would change, and that you would probably be fine."

Wendell smiled with the expression most people get when they are reminded of their shortcomings by someone who cares for them, but the smile also held a great deal of relief that he really _had_ turned out okay. Things could, and would, have been a lot worse if other things had happened differently. "You were right to worry, I suppose, but I'm very glad to hear of your confidence in me." And he really was; there was no way he could express how important it was to him to get he approval of his grandmother, who in his mind in a way represented his entire family and all of the house of White.

"Oh, you might've been a downright pain at times, my boy, but you weren't _bad_." Once again she chuckled, looking at her grandson with obvious pride.

Then she turned to Virginia and Wolf. "I see things worked out very well for you too, my girl. Do you think you've got your happily ever after now?"

"For the moment," Virginia answered with a small smile.

"Yes, I suppose that's the only thing anyone can really wish for." Her gaze went to the child in Virginia's arms, and she smiled as he whined a bit ad wriggled in his mother's grasp. "And Christian, heir to the throne. He has my blessing, poor dear. It's not an easy task."

Then she straightened up a bit, suddenly looking very regal. "Talking is all very well, but we've got a marriage to see to. May I proceed, Wendell?"

"It would be an honour…" Wendell fired off a wicked little grin, "…granny."

"Well, thank you, Wendy."

The ceremony was probably a bit shorter than it should have been, but also rather more straight to the point. Wendell and Tony went back into their bubble again, and both Virginia and Wolf were wiping tears from their eyes at the end of it.

And Tony's voice might've failed for a moment at the, "I do," but Wendell squeezed his hand and smiled at him, and everything was okay again.

"You may now kiss the groom."

And Tony put his hands around Wendell's face, pausing to revel in the fact that yes, he had married a man, one who was much younger than himself, and right now he didn't give a rat's ass about what other people might think about it.

Then he placed his lips on Wendell's ever so softly, closing his eyes, but a strange impulse made him open them again. His vision was slightly blurred, but he could still see that Wendell also had his eyes open, and he could se the love in those eyes shining out towards him like a beacon over a dark, stormy sea.

"_Why do we kiss with our eyes closed?"_

And then, just like that, it was over. They pulled away from each other reluctantly, Wendell putting a hand on Tony's shoulder to support his apparently wobbling knees, and turned to face the cheering crowd. But, since Tony wasn't the king and thus didn't feel obliged to please the populace, he turned his head to smile at his daughter. And Virginia, who realised that she had never seen her father this happy before, smiled back.

After the cheers had finally died away, Snow White once more spoke. "It is… customary for these occasions for me to grant a wish each from the happy two." A teasing spark appeared in her eyes. "Though I do not know if I should give one to you, Anthony Lewis. You seem remarkably bad at them."

Tony smiled a bit ruefully. "True. But as a matter of fact, ma'am, I don't think I need a wish. Every wish I made back then was for a better life, and I… I don't see how it can get better than this."

Had they been in a more private situation, Anthony would have found himself getting royally snogged for that statement, but since they were very much in public, Wendell settled for smiling at his husband and vowing to make that wedding night _very_ special indeed.

"I thought that might be your answer," Snow White said, and Tony got the strange impression that he had passed some sort of a test. "Very well then. Wendell?"

"Grandmother, recently I have wished for so many things. But if the gift of a wish fulfilled is to be truly granted to _me_, there is only one thing I would ask for myself, and that is an opportunity to speak to Viscount Lansky."

Snow White took a long time to answer, studying her grandson carefully before finally nodding. "Yes. That's a good wish, Wendell, and it's… granted."

At the very moment the word "granted" was uttered, a hand was placed on Wendell's shoulder. A very familiar hand, and as Wendell's eyes grew large with shock, he turned around to face…

"Lansky…"

"Hello, Wendell," the man said with a deep, firm voice, gently reaching out to touch the now very pale cheek of the stunned king. Then he just as gently pushed him aside to face Tony. "Anthony, I trust that you know of the nature of my relationship to Wendell?"

Tony found his voice after some internal struggling. "Yes. I do."

"Then you understand that this conversation might not be… entirely pleasant for you to hear. Unfortunately I am only allowed a limited amount of time here, otherwise I would seek a more private place to conduct this discussion."

Tony only nodded, not knowing what he could possibly say, just wanting this to be over quickly so that he could forget all about the unmasked longing in Wendell's eyes.

Lansky smiled at Tony, a spark of humour lighting up his pale blue eyes. "Anthony, I'm dead. Whatever you see or hear in this room today is ultimately of no consequence. I will remain dead and nothing in the world can change that."

Tony forced himself to smile. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I'd still rather I didn't hear or see anything of this. But stop wasting time. It's Wendell you're here to see, not me." He wanted the man to stop talking to him, right now, before he lost all ability to be civil. Anything else would be petty, and Tony didn't want to be that kind of person.

Lansky chuckled, "Oh, he needed some time to gather himself up, usually it takes about a minute. But you're right, so if you'll excuse me." And with that, the Viscount turned to face Wendell. "My king, are you ready know?"

Wendell nodded, "I… I just don't know where to begin. But I guess… I am right, am I not? You loved me?"

"I _love_ you, Wendell."

A murmur went through the crowd in the great hall, like the wind through high grass, and then a strange hush settled. Wendell stood like a statue, pale and stiff. Even in death the man loved him, and suddenly the young king realised that in a way he'd just treated Lansky in the same way he always had. He'd needed to tell him that he was sorry, and therefore called him from the realm of the dead on the very day that he'd gotten married to another man, without stopping to consider the pain that might cause the Viscount.

" I am so, so sorry Lansky. For everything. For treating you the way I did, for not _stopping_ to treat you the way I did. Even now I brought you here for comfort and reassurance…" Wendell looked as if he wanted to go on, but Lansky had walked up to him and put his hand over the royal lips.

"For crying out loud, Wendell! The reason I am here now is because an opportunity to make a wish presented itself, and your heart's desire in that moment was to speak to me. Admittedly, the timing isn't what anyone would call perfect, but you don't get to decide when a wish is to be granted. Do you think I consider it a _bad_ thing that even at your wedding, you think of me?"

Tony winced. It was painful to hear, even if that thought had of course already crossed his mind, just as he had realised what pain Wendell was causing Lansky the moment he appeared there. It was painful to see the same love as he felt – _his _love – in Lansky's face, and to see the ghost of love that never got a chance to live, touching Wendell's face and bringing tears to his eyes.

"And you don't have to feel sorry for me," Lansky continued, "When you decided to make me your lover, I knew what was going on. I knew _you_. And whatever you might've told yourself, there were a lot of things I could have done to stop you. Now, the reason I did none of them was because I didn't want to. And…"

"I SHOULD HAVE STOPPED _MYSELF!_" Wendell was radiating anger, and as always when he was really angry with himself, he took it out on someone he cared about. "This is not about you _letting _me do those things to you. Of _course _you let me! You _loved me!_ This is about me being a total utter _JERK!"_ and so on, and so on.

Tony stared at his husband. This was the Wendell he remembered from the beginning of their acquaintance, the Wendell that said, "manservant," like most people would say, "slave," and assumed that everyone automatically should do his bidding. This must be the Wendell that Lansky had known all of his life. It was rather awful seeing him like this again, and it gave him a terrible urge to slap Wendell good and hard over the face.

And Lansky was _smiling_. He stood there looking like he was laughing at some private joke, watching Wendell in the same mild, loving manner as he had before he started shouting. Tony was amazed. What was that man made of? He thought he had gotten pretty used to Wendell's hysterical mood swings and demanding nature, but now he realised that compared to Lansky, what he had had to stand was _nothing_. Compared to King Wendell, Prince Wendell was a _nightmare_.

Lansky glanced over at Tony with a look that spoke volumes of, "Yes, he was like this. Quite often."

And then Wendell seemed to realise something, and went abruptly quiet, which was of course what Lansky had been waiting for all along.

"Finished?"

"I was being…"

"Yes?"

"I was doing it again, wasn't I?"

"Quite."

"I never could keep my cool around you," Wendell said, finally allowing himself to be comfortable in the presence of his former lover.

"No, you never could. But I wouldn't have wanted it any other way, because I knew that all that anger really was you being angry at yourself, and that meant that deep down inside you, you knew that it was wrong to treat me the way you did. That gave me hope."

Lansky put one arm around Wendell's waist, and a hand on his cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "I have to go, soon, so I'll just say this very quickly. I know you blame yourself for my death. Don't. You were just a child when you lost your parents, and almost your own life. The huntsman was out there then too, you know. We, the counsellors, were just as responsible for not stopping him as you were. And there is no point in blaming anyone, I died, and that's how it is." Now Lansky's fingers were entwined in the hair at the back of Wendell's neck. "And the only important truth is this: When I fell in love with you, everything else went away," he smiled, a genuinely happy smile, "and it never came back."

Then Viscount Lansky did what might have been the first purely selfish thing he'd ever done. He kissed Wendell, and it wasn't the chaste, polite kiss one might expect from a man standing in the middle of a crowd (not to mention right in front of the husband of the person he was kissing). No, it was the feverish kiss of someone about to basically just lay their lover down wherever they happen to be and take them for whatever they have to offer.

And in that moment, for a fleeting and yet everlasting instant, the love that could have been, _was._

Then, as Lansky pulled away, he also started to fade, and even before he had entirely left Wendell's arms, he was gone, his last whispered, "Goodbye…" lingering in the air like another, gentler kind of kiss.

It was as if someone was driving red hot steel through Tony's heart. He was vaguely aware of Virginia standing next to him, squeezing his arm and making low, sympathetic noises, but she might as well have been standing on the moon.

Sure, he had been jealous when he first found out about what Christine was doing, but this was something that went beyond jealously and ended up being just… loss. Because he could almost _see_ all the might-have-beens, fragile as dreams, creating themselves and then dying around a Wendell that was in this moment completely Lansky's, not his. How was he supposed to feel something other than pain at the thought that his husband and that man had something that he would never be able to touch? Lansky would leave a hole in Wendell's life that Tony could never fill, and there would always be a part of Wendell that wished that the two of them could've had a chance to… be.

But a more urgent pain overtook that pain, and it was a pain that was easier to handle. Because he could see Wendell hurting, as Lansky pulled out of the kiss and faded away. There was hurt in his face, and there was hurt in the way he touched his swollen lips; in the stumbling when Lansky was no longer supporting him, stumbling when he realised that the love he had just felt had never really been for real.

"Wendell?" he asked, trying to speak softly, but his voice broke, coming out strangled and unnatural.

And Wendell swivelled into the arms of his husband, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh fuck… Anthony, please forgive me!"

"It's fine… it's okay… hush…"

Snow White turned to the crowd, rather effectively blocking the view of the heartbroken king. "_Fine._ Why don't all of you clear off to the banquet hall and wait there for the King and his husband to join? Scram." And with that, she, too, faded away.

As soon as the doors to the hall slammed shut, Virginia rounded on Wendell. "What the _hell _was that all about?!"

Tony looked up, grimacing at her. "Virginia, no," he said, apparently trying to speak so that Wendell couldn't hear him. "It's fine, okay?"

"No, it's _not_ fine, dad! He was… What the _fuck_ were you thinking, Wendell?"

Tony lost his patience. "Wolf! Get her out of here. Now."

Wolf nodded solemnly, grabbing Virginia by the elbow and starting to drag her toward the doors.

"Wolf! What are you…"

"Huff puff, you really need to learn when to shut up." As she opened her mouth yet again, he threw a rather fierce look at her over his shoulder. "This is _mate_ business. Are _you_ Wendell's mate?"

"No, I-"

"Then come _on_."

A large quantity of silence happened in the throne room, broken only by the King's sobs. And then:

"Wendell? How are you feeling?"

"How am _I _feeling? I just… you just had to…how are _you_ feeling?"

"I… I really wish I could hate that man."

Wendell snapped his head up, meeting Anthony's gaze with an almost… insulted look. "You _don't_?"

"No. No, I don't. I… know what it was like for him when you… well. I understand why he did that. He even tried to warn me. He… however much I hate to admit it, he had every right to be selfish right then." He raised his eyebrows, almost – but not quite – smiling. "That is _not_ to say I don't want to knock his nose some couple of inches into his head, and if you'd ever do that to another man, I'd do the same to you." His grip around Wendell tightened slightly, as if to say, "_Mine_."

"I don't deserve you," Wendell sighed, and cautiously planted a light little kiss on Tony's cheek, not sure how physical he dared be right now.

Tony smiled tremulously, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears from Wendell's eyes. "There now. No red eyes on our wedding day, right?" And then he very firmly kissed Wendell right on the mouth, trying to claim back whatever it was he had, for a moment, felt that Lansky had stolen from him.

Wendell didn't mind getting reclaimed at all, and when Tony broke the kiss, the king's smile was wide and open. "Right. Let's go?"

And even though there was so much that felt… bad, so much that he was still frightened of or angry over, Tony decided that there was a time for that, and it wasn't now. This was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, and if it did not co-operate he was going to _make _it. "Yes. Let's meet up with the scandalized guests, shall we?"

* * *

The guests were truly scandalized. What else was there to expect? If they hadn't been scandalized by just the fact that King Wendell was marrying a man some twenty years his senior, him kissing _another_ man on the same day had definitely done the trick. Tony and Wendell walked into a buzz of voices, like a nest of angry hornets, and gazes following them from every corner of the banquet hall. Tony noticed his daughter glaring daggers at Wendell, and realised that she was not going to forget this in a hurry. In a way, he understood her. She didn't know. She just saw what was in front of her, and that was Wendell kissing another man and causing her father pain. But he had a feeling that he ought to have a talk with her about it. At least _someone_ ought to. Maybe Wendell, when he was feeling a bit better.

Wendell was at the moment feeling like crap, struggling to regain the happiness he'd felt before the rash wish that had just about pushed his relationship with Tony too far. There is only so much you can ask of the person you love, and Wendell couldn't quite believe that Anthony hadn't reached his limit back there.

"Maybe we should sit down, Wendell? You look like you're going to faint any minute, love." Tony usually didn't really use nicknames like that, but something with the way Wendell's gaze was flittering around the room made him sure that his husband needed all the reassurance he could get.

Wendell tried to smile at his husband, like he had done in the throne room just before they left it, but somehow he couldn't re-summon the comfort he had felt in Tony's reclaiming kiss. No, now it was resolutely pushed away by hundreds of angry and accusing glares.

"Yes, we really should sit down…" he mumbled, and ungracefully half-collapsed into his chair.

Tony glared back at the spectators and sat down next to Wendell, feeling absolutely helpless. This wasn't going to work. They couldn't continue if this was how people were going to act toward Wendell. They certainly took seriously on Happily Ever After here, and what Wendell had just done was apparently a great breach of decorum, or something. And he found himself getting angrier and angrier with the lot of them. The right to be angry with Wendell was _his_, and his alone.

Stroking the cheek of his husband, he lifted his drooping chin and kissed him once more, this time much gentler. "You know, you'll really have to try _much_ harder if you want me to stop loving you."

Wendell whispered a "Thank you…" only meant for Anthony's ears, before getting up to address the wedding guests. They all moved to stand up as he did, but he made a gesture to stop them. "Please, do remain seated. Now, I know that what happened in there was a gross breach of tradition, and I assure you that it was certainly not what I had in mind when I asked to see Lansky again. To be quite frank, I don't know what I had in mind exactly, but it certainly wasn't anything along those lines. So, honoured guests, it would please me to no end if we could all just try to enjoy ourselves as much as possible, and deal with the violation of Happily Ever After at another time."

The guest murmured and grumbled, but the amount of glaring and hissing was at least severely diminished. Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "I am never going to understand how you manage," he mumbled to his husband as Wendell sat down. "But you know, we'll still have to face up to a lot of them later, during the ball. For one, Cinderella was not looking happy when she came there, and Lansky's display of affection didn't make it better." He noticed that people were still watching him, probably trying to figure out if he really was as fine with what had happened as he seemed. Well, of course he wasn't. But it was nobody's goddamn business except his and Wendell's.

Wendell placed an affectionate hand on Tony's knee and patted it. "It helps to be born and bred into it, and with the added bonus of a wonderful husband I can take on just about anything." He looked over at the beautifully preserved lady scowling at him from further down the table. "Except maybe Cinderella…"

"Let's send Wolf on her instead," Tony suggested, grinning at Wendell.

"Hah, that would certainly keep her occupied. And as for Lansky and his display of affection, I have a good mind to slap him across the room a couple of times, and then slap myself right after him! That whole scene was just all shades of wrong." Wendell sighed and waved a waiter in to serve him some wine.

"Well, I'm not going to disagree with you. But it helps to know that you weren't exactly anticipating it." Tony watched the waiter pour wine for them both, and looked very pointedly at Wendell's cup. "That's the _only_ wine you're having tonight."

Wendell had the exact look that young people in all worlds get when they are told they can't party all night. "What in the world would possess you to think that I'll have only one cup of wine on my _wedding feast_?"

"Because you are not exactly mentally stable at the moment, because you don't know how to stop when you've had enough, and because I _definitely _want you conscious tonight?" Tony suggested, smiling at Wendell's offended face.

"Damn, I hate it when you're right!" Wendell said as a loud fanfare announced the serving of the first course.

"But of course you do."

* * *

While waiting for the band to start playing, people drifted around like people everywhere do when trying to fill an amount of time that isn't long enough for anyone to actually _do_ something, but not short enough not to be boring. In other words, mingling.

Unlucky people all over the room were being accosted by a slightly hysterical young woman who tried to make them agree that the king was looking very unhappy today. Most people were kind and said something noncommittal before fleeing, some were cursed with incurably good breeding and agreed with her, and some were neither and laughed her straight into her face.

This was not a happy day for Lady Delvehn.

Some where speaking in more hushed tones, something that clearly signalled that they were speaking about things they shouldn't. It wasn't very discreet, but then again, most people in the room were rich, and thus weren't used to having to _be_ discrete.

"I think it is all rather vulgar," a countess in a huge crimson hat said, fanning herself jerkily, as if the fan, too, was offended. A general murmur of assent followed her words.

"Certainly," agreed her husband, rather meekly. His wife's clothes were clashing with his orange hair.

"I mean, who does that man think he is?" the countess continued.

"Which of them?" an old man asked, polishing his monocle.

"Well, who do you think?" the countess exclaimed, nearly taking her husband's eye out with her fan. "I mean, we all knew that Wendell was a bit… well, but that was all fine when he kept it to himself. But this! That man – that _stranger –_ has no right, just no right!"

"True. The king is young. He is easily impressionable," a moustached baron agreed.

"Yes, _exactly._ He's _young_. His husband isn't." The countess looked around for support, and people murmured and nodded.

"It's distasteful, it really is."

"Disgusting."

"I don't see how this can be allowed, I really can't;" said the countess, triumphant.

"You can't?" said a very mild voice. The gaggle of people turned around, only to behold the elf king and queen. The king was looking amused, stroking his beard as if trying to bring focus on the greyness of it. His wife, however, was fuming.

"_If I_," she said, and her usually sweet voice was a dangerous purr, "ever hear you speak like that again, Countess Cornelia, I will _certainly_ speak to Queen Riding-Hood about it, and rest assured that she will not let it pass unnoticed. Look at this as a sharp reprimand, and _keep it in mind_ whenever you feel like letting your tongue wander off and leave your mind behind."

And very little in the room passed unnoticed by a pair of stern blue eyes, especially not the behaviour of the King and his husband. Even though they complied to courtesy and shook hands with and smiled at everybody in their way, it was really quite obvious that they were really trying to avoid such encounters as much as possible, because they stole time from them. Not time to do anything much really, just time to spend pretending that they were all alone in the room.

Cinderella shook her head in disgust. No matter how much she hated to admit it, there it was. Wendell was in love. There were times when she had despaired, seeing the boy flitting from man to man like… well, like something not very nice. Cinderella put a lot of emphasis on the importance of falling in love. If she hadn't, where would she be now?. And well, in theory it didn't matter who you fell in love with. Her husband – bless his soul – hadn't cared when he found her with her hair full of ash and a dress full of chicken shit. But… well, that was a _traditional _obstacle. The intended spouse being a middle-aged man was _not._ And the worst part about it was almost that Wendell didn't even _notice_ that there _was_ an obstacle. He had married the man like it was the most obvious thing in the world to do.

It was a bit shocking to realise that this was because Wendell, strange as it might seem, had managed to grow up.

And there he was, having his unconventional Happily Ever After at everyone and enjoying every minute of it. And even if Cinderella still didn't like his idea of a happy ending, and never would, she knew that this was as good as it got. No matter who you were and whom you chose to love, you couldn't hope for more in love than what Wendell already had. And she certainly didn't wish him to have _less_.

It wasn't true that she, 'just wanted him to be happy'; she also wanted him to be a good king, but she failed to see how his husband was going to stand in the way of that. Thus she had no cause for her still not quite defeated disapproval, and kept it to herself.

* * *

Wendell was standing by the drinks table in the throne room, that had been redecorated during the feast to serve as dancing area. He was trying to get he waiter there to understand that yes, he wanted a drink, but no, he didn't want it to be alcoholic. The man seemed to be unwilling to acknowledge that there could in fact be such a thing as a non-alcoholic drink, and he was prepared to defend this belief even if it meant standing up to the king and getting fired for it. Now, a king who'd kept Sir Rupert on his staff for several years wasn't likely to fire anyone on a whim, but this man was _really_ getting on Wendell's nerves.

"Wendell! Wendell!"

Wolf came zigzagging through the swirling couples with a large package in his arms. He reached the king and handed it too him with a great deal of excitement.

"It's a present I got for you, in the 10th kingdom!"

"Why, thank you Wolf, that's really sweet of you."

"Open it quickly, before Virginia sees, she didn't want me to give it to you."

Intrigued by this, and with that pleased little feeling you get when you're doing something you shouldn't, Wendell tore the packaging off and… didn't really understand what he was looking at.

"What in the world _is_ this?"

"I'm not sure, but Virginia insists on us using them whenever we… you know, so I thought your Tony would probably want you to as well, him being from the 10th kingdom and all too."

Tony, who had just escaped a conversation with a Lady Delvehn that looked like she was about to kill him, stopped and stared. "Wendell," he said with great patience, "why in the name of Jesus are you holding a package of condoms?"

"So that's what it's called!" Wendell said, as he pried the package open, only to find even more, smaller packages within. He put the larger package away on the drinks table and tore one of the smaller ones open, pulling out a condom with a very amused look on his face. "Oh, I get it, you put it on your…"

"Yes, thank you, you _really_ don't have to say _that_ in here, do you?"

"Prude…" Wolf said under his breath, but the smile he threw the newlyweds was pure wickedness, since he'd know that all along.

"But honey, what's it for?" Wendell asked, waving the condom around a little.

"Well, it's not for fanning yourself, so you can stop doing _that_," Tony said, grabbing Wendell's arm. To himself he thought with a rather large amount of frustration that right now, he didn't care if six or seven more ghosts would arrive to snog his husband, if only he managed to make Wendell _not_ wave a condom around in front of half of the nobility of the 9 Kingdoms. "I'll explain _later_, okay? Just… put it away somewhere."

"Oh, all right," the king said and dropped the condom and it's wrapping into the large package on the drinks table before waving a servant in. "Take this to my quarters immediately." Then he turned back to his husband and Wolf. "Again, thank you Wolf, I have a feeling I'll enjoy getting that explanation from Anthony later."

"No doubt about it, your majesty," Wolf said, and then departed with a bow before the murderous stares from Tony would actually take effect and he'd drop dead.

"My daughter," Tony mumbled bitterly, taking a random drink from the table and making short work of it, "is _married_ to that man."

"Oh, get over yourself and dance with me," Wendell said, taking his husband's hand.

"I am warning you," Tony said as he was dragged towards the dance floor. "I am an absolutely terrible dancer."

* * *

Hours later, Tony was still getting dragged, but this time into the royal bedchamber. Not that he really minded. Wendell had look in his eyes that he definitely liked. Basically, it was a look that said, "I absolutely adore you, but I would adore you even more without those damn clothes".

As he was pushed down on their bed, every thought of Lansky, of jealousy and anger, was completely and utterly blown away.

"Why did I ever marry a woman?" he mumbled, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Why would you ever _remind_ me of you being married to a woman when I'm about to ravish you?" Wendell answered, just as teasing but a tad more annoyed. "And, before I forget about if for natural reasons," Wendell paused to fish out a condom packet that he'd managed to slip into a pocket without Tony noticing, "would you mind giving me that explanation?"

Tony pushed himself up against his elbows, smiling fondly at the king. "You are hopeless, did you know that?" Inching himself closer to Wendell, he started to 'accidentally' brush against certain body parts with his fingers. "Fine then, I'll explain. Do try to pay attention. Those are generally used for protection. Partly against unexpected pregnancies, which we don't have to worry about, partly against diseases, which I don't know if we should be worried about, and finally against infection, and we only have to worry about _that_ if we…" Tony blushed. "Well… You know…"

Wendell was feeling pleasantly distracted by Anthony's little 'accidents' right up until his husband said "you know…", then he pulled away from Tony a bit, taking the opportunity to kick his shoes off, and smiled. "If we…?"

Tony also took the time to remove his jacket and his shoes, something that provided plenty of opportunities to _not_ look at Wendell. "You enjoy torturing me, don't you? Fine then, if we… haveanalsexIcan'tbelieveIsaidthat…"

Wendell broke out laughing, and threw himself around Tony's neck.

"You are quite possibly the most wonderful man ever created," he said whilst allowing his fingers to occupy themselves with the first button of Anthony's shirt. When button number one was defeated, the hands saw no reason to refrain from conquering more territory and promptly moved on to button number two.

"And yes, I do enjoy torturing you," the king mumbled into his husband's ear before biting it gently. The hands had now reached button number three.

By button number five he felt brave enough to reveal what he had been planning. "Well, you see, Anthony, my love… There is a reason we haven't… well, if you said it I guess I can, there is a reason we haven't had anal sex. You see, I've kind of been saving it for know, for this night. I wanted tonight to be special. How do you feel about that?"

Tony had no idea how he felt about that. He _had_ wondered why Wendell had refrained from… well, that, but he had been far too embarrassed to ask. "I… Perhaps a bit intimidated?" he murmured, and then gasped a bit as Wendell's questing fingers managed to brush over a rather sensitive spot. "You're the experienced one here." And don't you love it, he added in his mind.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean," Wendell said as he stroked the sensitive spot his hands had discovered. "To be quite frank, I've never been someone's first before." He pulled Anthony's shirt off, and then felt that it was time to start on the ridiculous amount of buttons that held the top part of his uniform together. "Could you help me with this?"

Tony honestly couldn't speak when Wendell was doing that with his fingers, but as he started on the buttons and straps and whatnots on his husband's clothes, he once more tried to give words to what he wanted to say. He got as far as, "Yes, I know. It's just…" before he once more fell silent. What was he supposed to say? I've only ever been with one person before, and her anatomy differed quite much from yours? He'd rather not. "You still know how to do this better than me," he finished, rather lamely, removing the jacket and starting on Wendell's trousers.

_Man, is he in a hurry to get me naked!_

"Don't worry. As far as I know, you're quite excellent at what you do and I believe you'll take to this just fine. If you want to do it, of course."

When his trousers were gone, Wendell went for Anthony's with much eagerness. He'd been fantasizing about the man for several hours and now he wanted some action. Or, more correctly, a whole lot of action.

When they were finally both naked, Wendell pressed himself against Tony and brought his lips to those of his husband. The sheer intensity of emotion almost made him come right there and then, and since that would have been _very_ embarrassing he was forced to pull away again to take several deep calming breaths.

Tony hadn't answered Wendell's question up till then, because he truly didn't know. Maybe he _wasn't_ ready for that, it was so hard to tell. But then, seeing Wendell pull away, knowing exactly _why _he did it, once again reminded him on just how much this young, beautiful man actually wanted him, loved him. And then he knew he was safe.

"I trust you," was all he said pulling Wendell closer once more and starting to place deft, soft kisses all over his chest.

It was maddening, a madness made sweeter by the fact that Wendell knew that Anthony was oh so well aware of the effect his kisses had. The light brush of his lover's lips against the plentiful hairs on his chest first, a tantalising taste of what was to come, and then the sweet pressure when they reached his skin.

"Good…" he breathed, not sure himself if he meant Tony's kisses or his statement that he trusted Wendell.

An eternity of kisses, caresses, sighs and moans later, Wendell – with some slight guidance – figured out how to put on a condom. For once, he didn't much mind being guided at all. Then, biting his lower lips nervously, almost not feeling pleasure for fear of hurting Anthony, Wendell edged his way into his husband.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt. Well, _of course_ it hurt. It wasn't exactly as if you were built for this sort of thing.

"Ouch."

"I'm so sorry, I know. Do you want me to stop?"

"If you stop… I'll _kill_ you…" While it still hurt, Tony had just realised the _good_ part about this. Now he understood why Wendell had been saving this for a special occasion.

_I knew there were reasons for loving this man._

"Well, if that's how you feel…" Wendell chuckled, and didn't stop. Though the pleasure was driving him mad, he didn't allow himself to let go. He waited for Anthony, anticipating how good it would feel to relinquish control at the very same moment that his lover did.

Tony was realising not just how good _this_ felt, but how good it feels to be so much a part of someone that it was almost like being two people at once, as you take in a knowledge of the other person's pleasure that is so strong that the difference from actually _feeling_ it wasn't there. He was rediscovering this simple fact every time Wendell touched him, held him, _wanted _him, and every time the experience deepened his love for the man a little bit.

This, of course, just accentuated the longing for more, that wonderful, inciting hollowness that needed to be filled, this pain that begged for release. He tried to put this craving into words, but his voice wouldn't co-operate, and the only thing he managed was monosyllabic moans and half-choked whispers of love and need.

And then the moment was there, both climactic and strangely regretted, like it is when all good things end. Hands grasped at sheets and skin, breaths caught, bodies tensed, and then the shuddering instant passed.

For a long while afterwards they lay awake, relishing in the warmth of skin against skin, soul against soul, having a whispered conversation about everything and nothing, just to hear each other's voices. Hands wandered lazily, caressing cheeks and trailing lips, and from time to time they silenced each other with kisses, savouring the stillness of each of these moments. And after a while they fell silent, their hands now still, their eyes closed, and rested like this for a long while, not feeling the need of anyone or anything else, before they fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: **I defy anyone to claim that there is lack of cuteness here. I also defy the cookiemaker of the Dark Side! Let's battle it down in a duel, man to mutt!

Argh, randomness. This is one of the Authors of Doom, Jerry is my name, and I am going to sleep. Goodnight.


End file.
